Harry Potter and the Ultimate Sacrifice
by hatsford
Summary: Albus Dumbledore once said, There are things much worse than death. During his quest to destroy Voldemort, Harry discovers that his mentor may have been right. In order to save Wizardkind Harry faces a terrible choice. Formerly HP & the 7th Book. HG
1. Express Planning

**Disclaimer : **Clearly everything in the Harry Potter Universe belongs to J K Rowling and not me. I'm just playing with her fantastic creations until she finds time to finish the real 'Seventh Book.' Starts after HBP ends and contains spoilers (for full summary see my bio)...

**Please Note** : This story was formerly called **Harry Potter and the Seventh Book**, It has been extensively reformatted, and I've edited out all the mistakes which have been pointed out to me. So this a repost. If you've read my version of 'Harry Potter and the Seventh Book' there won't be anything new here for you, unless, that is you didn't read the epilogue first time round. It's an integral part of the story so I strongly suggest you do.

**Content Warning :** This fic is called Harry Potter and the Ultimate Sacrifice for a very good (but not the obvious) reason. If you are expecting a Harry/Ginny & Ron/Hermione live a fairy tale happily ever after, then you will be sorely disappointed. While not exactly a tragedy, it is my hope that reading this will make you cry and, in the words of a reviewer (lonelyphantom), 'both love me and hate me at the same time' by the finish.

**Harry Potter and the Ultimate Sacrifice**

**Chapter 1 : Express Planning**

Harry turned away from Ron and Hermione and walked towards the lake shore. He didn't feel ready to head back to the castle and face the other Gryffindors, particularly Ginny. So instead, he stood gazing vacantly out over the lake towards the Forbidden Forest, idly watching the giant squid give a ten-tentacle salute in the direction of the funeral pyre.

For the first time in his life, Harry had a clear idea of what he needed to do in order to defeat Voldemort. He firstly had to destroy the remaining Horcruxes, which would make his nemesis mortal. Then he had to find a way to do the impossible and kill the evil wizard. After today, it was all up to him.

Everyone he had ever looked up to in his life was gone. Because of Voldemort, he could not ask his parents for advice, or his godfather, Sirius, and now he couldn't even ask his mentor, Dumbledore. Yes, Harry Potter knew what he had to do this summer - but how was he going to do it? He knew Ron and Hermione would be with him every step of the way, and their help would, as always, be invaluable. But Harry was worried about their safety. He knew that if he had any chance of succeeding, it would be because of them, but the responsibility weighed heavier than ever before. This time, there was no one to guide him. It was up to him to make decisions and give out the orders. This, more than anything, petrified Harry.

How on earth could three kids hope to find the Horcruxes where Dumbledore had failed? Also, considering the injuries that the great man had suffered, during his attempts to find the evil remnents of Voldemort's soul, how could they hope to destroy the Horcruxes even if they could find them? What if, like Dumbledore, Harry got it wrong and put his trust in someone like Snape? What if his decisions resulted in the death of Ron or Hermione?

Harry realised with a jolt that this was probably going to be the last time he would be at Hogwarts; the place which had been his home for the last six years. Sure, he'd known he would have to leave school eventually, but not in these circumstances. He fought the tears welling in his eyes as he silently bade goodbye to the forest, lake, Quidditch pitch, and to the spot where he stood now; under the little tree where he and Ginny had first … Harry's thoughts were interrupted by a combination of Hagrid's and Fang's howls resonating deeply from inside the gamekeeper's small hut.

Harry considered Hagrid to be a very loyal friend and knew how much he had idolised Dumbledore. As a result he felt he owed Hagrid a personal goodbye before he left on his quest. So he turned and walked slowly towards the hut. It was only as he started moving that Harry realised just how long he'd been stood looking out over the lake. All the guests had gone, and the chairs had been vanished.

Had he looked behind him, before he entered the hut, Harry would have seen a small freckled, tear-stained face, streaked with strands of long and unruly red hair. Ginny was watching his every move from a small dormitory window high up in Gyffindor Tower.

"Harry," bellowed Hagrid as he enveloped him in a giant and somewhat firmer hug than normal. Once Harry had broken free from Hagrid's grasp, the half-giant wobbled unsteadily and staggered back towards his chair.

"'e loved you, yer know. Thought of yer as the son 'e never had, and 'e was ever so proud of yer," hiccupped Hagrid over a giant bucket of what smelled suspiciously like firewhisky. Fang the boarhound barked in agreement as he dipped his nose into a similarly smelling bowl on the floor.

"Hagrid," said Harry softly. "I've come to say goodbye. I won't be back next year, I …"

Hagrid didn't appear to be listening. "Great man!" he bawled, raising his bucket in a drunken toast. "The best wizard that ever lived, and I always said the only one what You-Know-Who were ever afraid of."

Hagrid grabbed Harry round the shoulders and pulled him closer. "Dumbledore said that I was wrong, an' that You-Know-Who was afraid of you, Harry. And rightly so, 'cause I know yer the one whose goin' kill 'im."

Hagrid emptied his bucket with another giant gulp and swayed over to his bed. "Me an' Fang 'll be 'ere fer yer 'Arry if yer needs us. We'll keep 'Ogwarts safe. No ruddy Death Eater's goin' to get in me 'ome while there's still a breath left in me body." With that final word, Hagrid slumped back onto his unmade bed and started snoring loudly.

Harry took this as his cue to leave and headed back to the castle. He skirted around the Great Hall, where most of the students had gathered in preparation to take the thestral-driven coaches to Hogsmeade Station. He also bypassed the staircase to Gryffindor Tower,and instead turned towards the staff quarters; there was one more person he had to see before he left.

"Come in, come in," called out Professor Slughorn after Harry knocked on his door. A wave of déjà-vu swept over him as he walked through the door into Slughorn's quarters, for the Professor was packing his belongings, just as Lockhart and Professor Lupin had done in previous years. Harry shook the memories out of his head and decided to get straight to the point by asking Slughorn for a small favour.

"Anything, dear boy, anything at all," Slughorn began automatically, before stopping instantly and looking like he regretted making the offer.

"Professor Dumbledore told me once that you were a master Occlumens." Slughorn looked surprised but said nothing, so Harry continued," It was when he asked me to get that memory from you. I suggested he use Legilimency," finished Harry awkwardly. Slughorn remained silent, so Harry tried again. "In the battle last week, Snape used Legilimency to defeat me. He knew which spell I was thinking about and was able to block it before I even cast it. I need to be able to close my mind, to stop him anticipating my thoughts. I need you to teach me so that the next time I meet Snape I won't be so vulnerable."

Slughorn shuddered fearfully, "No, I will not teach you. If the Death Eaters find out about that, they will kill me for sure," he countered. "Now that Albus is gone, the school is bound to close. I have to go back into hiding to ensure my safety."

"If you teach me properly, they will never find out," replied Harry, his temper rising at the old man's stubbornness. "Wait a minute, you were the one that taught Snape Potions, weren't you? So does that mean you taught the greasy bastard Occlumency as well?"

Slughorn appeared to be flummoxed by this and looked down to avoid meeting Harry's eyes. "Is there anyone in the Death Eaters whom you're not responsible for teaching? You taught Riddle about Horcruxes. Because of you he's split his soul seven times," blurted out Harry in a rage.

"Seven! No," protested Slughorn weakly.

"Voldemort should have died when he attacked me as a child but instead he survived to kill many more innocent witches and wizards. You could have stopped it by telling Dumbledore! It's entirely your fault." Harry knew it sounded childish, but he felt he needed to rattle the cowardly Professor.

"Its not …" but Slughorn was cut off as Harry ranted on. "Then you taught Snape Occlumency so he could deceive, and finally kill, Dumbledore."

"No, I didn't know …"

"And now you won't even spend a few days to try and keep me alive. All you're interested in is saving your own miserable skin," finished Harry, his green eyes blazing with a fury that Slughorn had never seen before. Those vivid green eyes; Lily's green eyes.

"Alright, I'll teach you" he finally conceded, sinking weakly to his knees."

Calming himself Harry replied, "I'm going to stay at my Aunt and Uncle's until I'm of age. Do you think I can learn enough in a week? Perhaps you could come and stay the week before my birthday. You are, after all, used to being an unwelcome guest in a Muggle house."

"Alright," sighed Slughorn. "Send me your owl and I'll come and teach you. Given your ability in Potions, a week should be enough to get you the basics."

"Thank you, Professor. Oh - and if for some reason my owl can't find you, I'll send Mad-Eye Moody." Harry added in a pleasant tone but he was pleased to see Slughorn jump in fright at the implied threat, as he turned to leave the Professor's quarters.

Far from being buoyed by his success with Slughorn, Harry was demoralised that he had had to resort to losing his temper and virtually force the old man into capitulating. What chance did he have against the bad guys, if he had to threaten the good ones to even help him? Could he even consider Slughorn as a good guy, especially after the revelations of this afternoon?

Harry reached the portrait of the Fat Lady without seeing another person. "Goodbye" he told her softly as he looked around the corridor wistfully.

"That's not the password," she chided in reply, before letting him enter the almost-empty common room for the final time. The only occupants were Ron and Hermione, who acknowledged his, "better go and pack," with a, "left it a bit late haven't you, mate."

Harry headed up to the sixth year boys dormitory, looking sadly around the now deserted room. It looked so depressing and bare now that Ron had removed his bright orange Quidditch posters and Dean his purple football ones. Harry flung open the curtains to his four-poster and was rudely awoken from his depression by a resounding slap across the face.

"How dare you break up with me, Harry Potter," screamed a tear-strewn, Ginny Weasley.

Harry braced himself for a further slap, but what came was far worse, for Ginny let out a loud sob and collapsed into Harry's chest. "I've loved you all my life. And now when we're finally together, you're breaking up with me because of, because of …Volde … Voldemort!"

Awkwardly, Harry patted her on the back, "I can't be with you, Ginny. I could never forgive myself if anything happened to you. Being the girlfriend of 'The Boy Who Lived' would make you the number one target of every Death Eater in the country."

"What about what I want, Harry? I want to be with you! I don't care about the risks. Can't you see that I'll be much safer with you to protect me than I would be stuck at home?" Ginny's voice tottered on the edge of hysteria.

Harry stroked her hair and held her close for several minutes until her sobs lessened. Slowly, Ginny pulled away from his chest and asked the question Harry dreaded more than any other.

"Do you love me, Harry?"

He had known it would come to this and he knew it was for the best, even though his heart was breaking as he raised his face to meet her gaze. "No," he whispered turning away so his eyes wouldn't betray his true feelings.

Ginny burst into tears again as she turned and stormed towards the staircase. She paused for a second in the doorway, gathering her breath. "They've all got it wrong, Harry. This isn't living; you're not 'the boy who lived,' you're just the boy who existed."

As the door slammed behind her, Harry answered her question softly to an empty room. "No, Ginny, I can't let myself love you. Not while Voldemort is still alive." He hated himself for what he'd done. but knew it was for the best.

Unsteadily he got to his feet and packed his trunk before descending the stairs into the common room, where Ron and Hermione were having a blazing row. "She's too young! Ginny's my baby sister. You've got to realise it is better that they're apart." Ron bellowed into Hermione's flushed face.

"Too young? Ginny isn't a kid anymore – or have you forgotten how bravely she fought in the Department of Mysteries last year? How old were you when you fought that troll to save me?" Hermione retorted.

"Ginny will be safer at home with Mum. She'll get over Harry soon, it's not like they're in love."

"Not in love! Are you mad, Ron?" screeched Hermione," You wouldn't know what love was if it slapped you round the face," she continued, raising her hand in fury but then spotting Harry.

"Oh," she squeaked, lowering her hand sheepishly "We'd … err … better hurry or we'll … umm …miss the train."

Despite being the last to arrive at the station, the Hogwarts Express was strangely empty. Many parents had whisked their children away from school as soon as Dumbledore's death had been announced. So it was with some ease that the trio found an empty compartment.

Once inside, Hermione warded the door and cast _Muffiilato _before settling down. Seeing that Ron was about to comment on Hermione's choice of spell, Harry started to recap, in detail, all he knew about Voldemort and the Horcruxes. When he'd finished, Ron was the first to speak.

"I meant what I said at the funeral, Harry. I'll be with you every step of the way, starting with the Dursley's. Now that I'm of age, I can't wait to meet Dudley." Ron added with a little too much relish.

"I don't want you to come with me," stated Harry.

"Well, I am, Harry – Like it or not you're not pushing me away. Don't you remember what Dumbledore said about your friends?" replied an angry Ron.

"No, you've got it wrong," said Harry. "I need your help, but you can be doing more useful things than staying with me at the Dursleys. Besides, I'll only be sleeping there until my protection runs out on my birthday. I intend to spend every day at Grimmauld Place working on my duelling and learning Auror skills. I'm going to ask Professor Lupin and Moody to teach me."

"Cool," replied Ron, "So will we be joining you at … at Padfoot's old place, then?"

"Ron," said Harry slowly, "Is Bill taking his sick leave at the Burrow?"

"Mmmm, dunno. I guess Mum'd kill him if he didn't let her take care of him now. And with the wedding coming up, too…. Why?"

"Do you reckon you could persuade him to teach you about curse breaking? Voldemort's Horcruxes are likely to be protected by some very nasty and complex traps and some knowledge might help keep us alive. You could always tell Bill and your mother that you want to take it up as a career so they won't be nagging you about running off and chasing Voldemort with me."

Ron looked relieved at being able to delay explaining to his mother that he didn't intend to return to Hogwarts and that he was going to try and kill Voldemort instead.

"Hermione," continued Harry. "Go and spend sometime with your parents. Once we start out, who knows how long it may be before you see them again. While at home, see if you can find out where the orphanage that Voldemort grew up in was? I reckon he'll have left a Horcrux there. Also, any chance you can do some research into who R.A.B. might be? In the note he calls Voldemort the Dark Lord, so I'm guessing he was a Death Eater at one time. Perhaps you could try looking for suspicious deaths, as Voldemort may well have had him murdered if he wanted out, just like Sirius told me had happened to his brother."

"Ahead of you there, Harry," interrupted Hermione. "I've arranged a few visits to Hogwarts this summer with Professor McGonagall for that very purpose."

"You want to go back to school? In the Holidays?" commented Ron, incredulously.

Hermione blushed, before Harry came to her rescue by changing the subject. "We need to try and figure out what the missing Horcrux is as well." He conjured a piece of parchment and started writing:

Dumbledore said;

_Riddle's Diary was the first (destroyed) _

_Marvolo's ring was the second, (destroyed) _

"At which point I think he decided to find something from each of the four Hogwarts founders to use to increase his power by using highly important objects," Harry resumed writing:

_Slytherin's locket (stolen by R.A.B) _

_Hufflepuff's cup (unknown) _

_Ravenclaw's or Gryffindor's ??? _

"Dumbledore thought that the last Horcrux was reserved for my death, so in the end it didn't get created until after he returned. He suspected Voldemort used his pet snake as a Horcrux in desperation, as he appears unusually attached to it. Dumbledore also said the only known relic of Gryffindor is his sword, which has been on display in the Headmaster's office for many years. Also, if you remember, I was able to use the sword to slay the basilisk and hence the diary, so there is no chance it's a Horcrux. So I'm inclined to agree with Dumbledore that the unknown one is likely to be a relic of Ravenclaw."

Hermione looked thoughtful for a while, but gathered up the parchment and agreed to find out as much as she could. "I thought you wanted me to spend some time with my parents?" she chided him with a wry smile, as the train slowed into Kings Cross Station.

"We'll all meet up in six weeks at the wedding to see how it's going. After that I'm going to learn Occlumency. Voldemort and Snape can read my mind and block spells before I've cast them, so until I can shield my mind I can't hope to beat them. I've arranged for Professor Slughorn to teach me in the week after the wedding."

"Slughorn? Is he any good?"

"Yeah," replied Harry. "So good, that Dumbledore couldn't get that memory from him. Did you know that he was responsible for teaching it to Snape as well?"

"Bloody Hell!"

"Ronald, I will not have you swearing. You're a prefect, think of the example you are setting," chided Hermione.

It looked like Ron and Hermione were gearing up for yet another argument, so Harry once more cut them off. "Then, after that, we'll start out on the search, right after my …"

"Massive seventeenth birthday party at the Burrow," finished Ron with a grin as they climbed onto the platform.

"See you," waved Harry in a falsely cheerful voice. He kept his eyes straight ahead as he walked towards Vernon Dursley, who was flanked by a menacing looking Mad-Eye Moody and Remus Lupin. Harry determinedly ignored the sight of a certain red-headed girl who was jumping into Mrs Weasley's arms further down the platform.

"Professors Moody, Lupin, can I have a quick word?" Harry asked, drawing them away from his Uncle while he asked them to train him. Remus agreed to get Mrs Figg's living room floo connected to Grimmauld Place for the Summer so that Harry could train each day.

"See you for work in the morning, Harry," called Remus as Harry gave his friends one last sad wave and followed his uncle towards the passenger lift which would lead them up to the ground level at King's Cross Station. Uncle Vernon scowled as Harry squeezed the trolley containing his Hogwarts trunk, Firebolt racing broom and Hedwig's owl cage into the already crowded lift. The last straw for Uncle Vernon was when an elderly lady started petting Hedwig, announcing how unusual it was to see a captive snowy owl. Hedwig had hooted softly back and nuzzled the lady, which in turn had caused everyone in the lift to coo over the unusual pet owl.

If there was one thing that Vernon Dursley despised most, it was abnormal things - things associated with Harry's wizarding life. So Harry knew he would pay dearly when he got home for drawing unwanted attention to himself. Things didn't improve for Uncle Vernon when they reached the badly parked car in a nearby side street, for adorning the windscreen was a small yellow sealed envelope, which contained a parking fine. Harry had to work hard to keep a straight face.

Uncle Vernon ranted and raved as they negotiated the South Circular Ring Road around London, making very slow progress towards the M3 and Surrey. Harry tuned out his uncle's racist rants about other motorists and pedestrians, as his mind dwelt on the sad events of the past year.

_He still couldn't believe that Snape had killed Dumbledore in cold blood. How could Snape just murder the man who had saved him from Azkaban and shown faith in him, and to do it with Dumbledore pleading for his life? Never had Harryso fervently wished he could have a Time-Turner and go back and warn Dumbledore, but he knew this was impossible. Dumbledore wouldn't have listened, anyway. Hadn't Harry warned him enough over the years that Snape was evil? He remembered Dumbledore's words with a certain futility. 'It is enough that I trust Severus Snape.' How could the old headmaster be so adamant in his belief and yet so very, very wrong?_

Harry was jerked out of his memories by a blinding white flash. Quick as lightning he brandished his wand and looked around for the source of the light. An obscene tirade from his uncle alerted Harry to the presence of a harmless speed camera. He gratefully stowed his wand safely back in his jeans, rueing how jumpy he had become in the past twelve months. As the impending speeding ticket quickly became Harry's fault in his uncle's eyes, he drifted back to his memories.

_Presumably, being a skilled Occlumens who could fool Voldemor, meant that Snape could fool Dumbledore just as easily. Possibly Snape had always been double crossing him, _thought Harry_. Perhaps it was Voldemort's idea for Snape to approach Dumbledore in the first place? _

_Harry could imagine Voldemort leaving to murder his parents and ordering Snape to tip Dumbledore off, but to make sure it was too late for the headmaster to stop the attack. _

_Snape must have known that it was Pettigrew who had told Voldemort about his parents in the first place. So he must have known that Sirius was innocent in the Shrieking Shack at the end of Harry's third year. I should have realised back then that anyone prepared to allow an innocent man to face the Dementors had to be working for Voldemort. _

The car came to a stop in an unfamiliar street, "Stay in the car, shut up, and don't move," commanded Uncle Vernon. "I'm picking up Petunia and Dudley, they've been to visit Marge," he explained at Harry's quizzical look. "Stay, boy. I'm not having you blowing her up again."

_Then there was Harry's fourth year. If Snape was in the services of Voldemort, then he would have known all about Barty Crouch Junior and he allowed Cedric Diggory to be killed. In fact, Harry was almost certain now that Snape had spent the whole year actually helping Crouch to brew the Polyjuice Potion, or at the very least supplying the ingredients. Oh, how he must have laughed at Dumbledore and me, _thought Harry angrily

_Then there was the fifth year, when Harry had tried to get him to help in Umbridge's office. If he had been on the Order's side he would have given Harry a sign, a nod, anything. But no; the deaths of Harry's parents, Cedric, Sirius, and Dumbledore; they were all Snape's fault._

_This gave Harry all the motivation he needed for his summer training. He knew he had to learn enough in the summer to take on Snape. So that next time they met, he would get revenge on the yellow-bellied coward for the deaths of his loved ones._

Harry felt himself being squashed and awoke frantically from his memories to find Dudley trying to squeeze into the rear seat of the car with him. Dudley had expanded to even greater proportions than the previous summer. The car listed violently as Dudley heaved a grotesque leg inside and Vernon struggled to shut the door, which was now scraping on the ground. Even with the passenger seat fully forward, Dudley could only just fit in the back, squashing Harry into a tiny corner behind his uncle. Harry was unable to dream any further, it was all he could do to breathe.

Finally they were home. After Harry had nursed his squished body back into shape, he climbed the staircase to his old bedroom. It was full of another year's worth of Dudley's broken toys, his mountain bike with a bent frame (obviously not built to carry a whale), and his punch bag (Dudley's stomach extended so far he could no longer reach the punch bag – and as he could no longer climb into a boxing ring he couldn't fight anymore.)

After clearing the rubbish away Harry collapsed on the bed and opened his trunk. There, lying on top of his robes was a photograph of himself standing in the entranceway to the Gryffindor common room. The Harry in the photo opened his arms and Ginny landed in them. The photo-Harry and photo-Ginny kissed each other passionately.

Harry lay there staring at the photo and drifted off into his first peaceful sleep for several weeks.

_A/N_

_Thanks to Penny, Charlie, Georgie, Kayla, Sarah, Caroline and anyone I've missed out, for their help with this one_


	2. Mr Joseph Rattyear

**Chapter 2 : Mr Joseph Rattyear**

Anxious to begin his training, Harry set off at dawn the following morning. As he stumbled out of the fire and into the kitchen of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, he found himself held at wand point by 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer.'

"What the …" asked Harry as Buffy's face turned bright red and her hair vivid purple, as Tonks resumed her usual form.

"Ssss … sorry," they stammered simultaneously before Tonks ducked off towards the kitchen.

"I didn't know Remus was obsessed with that particular Muggle television program, Buffy," called Harry slyly after her. "You wait 'til I tell Ron and Hermione."

Harry ducked the half fried egg that flew through the doorway. "You wouldn't dare," screamed Tonks, her hair cycling through the colours of the rainbow.

"Well, that depends… I might be persuaded to keep it to myself if you'll help with my training."

Tonks blinked in surprise. "So that's what you're here for," she stammered.

"Could you tell me about your Metamorphmagus abilities and how common they are? Also how would I go about recognising one, or somebody under the influence of polyjuice for that matter?"

Harry and Tonks sat down over breakfast, while she explained how her mother had discovered the unusual gift when Tonks had repeatedly changed the colour of her hair one summer's day.

"I had to teach myself, as there are no other known Metamorphmagi in the country; I found a few books on the Animagus transformation which helped me a bit. I can lend them to you if you're interested, but it's a skill you're born with Harry, not something you can learn."

"Does it weaken you to hold a transformation? I mean, can you cast other spells while you're in disguise?" Harry questioned.

"The actual transformation is the tricky part. You have to visualise what you want to change, and really force yourself to believe that it's going to happen. It's a bit like learning to Apparate: Determination, Deliberation … and I can never remember the last one," complained Tonks.

"Anyway the Morph is what takes the energy," continued Tonks. "I started with my hair, as this is the easiest part to change. Changing, for example, the bone structure of your face is quite a challenge. Once transformed, you don't need to use any effort or concentration to maintain the transformation, so you can do other things at the same time. So it's no problem for me to cast spells as normal while in my transformed state. Also it doesn't leave a magical signature, so the Ministry, or more importantly teachers, could never detect it. Why, once I morphed into Professor McGonagall and was flirting with Snape when …"

"How's my cute little werewolf slayer?" called Remus as he appeared in the kitchen, "Oh … er … Sorry, Harry, wasn't expecting you here so … early."

"Don't worry, Remus, your secret is safe with me," taunted Harry, in a tone which conveyed anything but reassurance.

Remus turned bright red, before he caught Tonks' eye. He turned back to Harry, replying in a menacing voice, "For that, I think it's time to start your duelling practice."

Harry gulped and backed away past the fireplace as Remus and Tonks advanced on him, wands drawn. "_Expelliarmus_," they yelled, perfectly separating Mad Eye's wooden leg from his body as he stepped out of the fireplace, ready for Harry's daily lessons.

"Ohh … ummm …. constant vigilance, Alastor," giggled Tonks as she ducked into the fire, flooing to the Ministry for work.

Moody, former Head Auror, had turned up with his old manuals and training material, and he proceeded to try and teach Harry three years of material in six weeks, 'the old-fashioned way.' However, much as he disliked Moody's methods, Harry couldn't help but acknowledge that his approach worked. Although the days were relentless, tiring and more often than not bruising, Harry noticed that he was becoming physically stronger, developing muscles he didn't even know he had. Several times he found himself ruefully wishing that Ginny could see the new, fitter Harry. But, each time he reminded himself that he had ended their relationship in order to protect her.

By the middle of July Harry could keep Remus at bay in a duel. Once Harry even managed to defeat both Remus and Moody at the same time, although Number 12 Grimmauld Place was looking a little worse for wear after they finished that duel.

Staggering back into his bedroom every night after Remus and Moody's assaults on his body, Harry looked like he was suffering worse physical abuse than anything the Dursleys had inflicted on him in earlier summers. It was after one particularly gruelling session that Harry found himself staring at the bathroom mirror in Privet Drive - and wondering how he was going to explain a black eye to Aunt Petunia when the bruising disappeared. He was on tenterhooks for a few hours, anticipating that his display of accidental magic at a Muggle residence would result in another of Malfalda Hopkirk's under-aged wizardry warning owls, but none came. The bruise still hurt like it existed, Harry just couldn't see it. He supposed the magic must have been too weak to detect. Perhaps the ministry had given up persecuting underage Muggle-borns and were at last concerning themselves with important things like Voldemort, thought Harry as he lay painfully on his bed reading Ron's latest letter.

'_Those bloody brothers of mine charmed my toothbrush to turn into a spider. It scared the living daylights out of me when it scurried along in front of the mirror. I nearly cut my throat, as I was using the shaving charm at the time. Why on earth did you ever give them that money, Harry?'_

Harry idly thought that the twins' creativity was the very reason he'd given them the money - that and the fact that Fred and George were now hopefully indebted enough not to prank him too severely. Harry was also quite thankful that he didn't seem to need to use a shaving charm yet. It seemed nothing but trouble. He remembered one of Seamus' attempts the morning after a particularly heavy Gryffindor post-Quidditch party. Seamus had needed two days in the hospital wing for Madam Pomfrey to reattach his left ear.

Harry woke with a start in the middle of the night. He'd fallen asleep reading Ron's letter, and as so often happens, had woken to a revelation. Harry realised that it had been over ten years since he had last had a haircut, and on the last occasion he did, it had been Aunt Petunia herself with her kitchen scissors and pudding basin. Harry remembered it so vividly because his hair had looked so bad and he had been expecting to be bullied mercilessly at school, but it had miraculously regrown by the following morning.

This meant that either he was going prematurely bald from the age of seven, or that he was managing to magically suppress the growth of hair. Harry thought back to what Tonks had told him last month, about how she had started out by changing just her hair. Was it possible he was a Metamorphmagus?

Harry spent the following morning in front of the bathroom mirror in Privet Drive, having finished his crash course in Auror training. Moody and Remus had said they were busy strengthening the wards around the Burrow in preparation for Bill and Fleur's wedding. Harry wondered if this was entirely true, and that maybe they were suffering as much as he was after the practice duels.

After a few hours, Harry had been able to turn his hair a sort of dirty-blond colour and lengthen it well past his shoulders including the fringe which now completely covered his scar. However, he still looked like a young, and now somewhat ridiculous, boy.

Harry tied his hair back in a ponytail, to give himself a full view of his face, but try as he might he couldn't alter the bone structure. So he tried more hair, and imagined himself with a beard and a moustache like a biker he had once seen in the park. After several misguided attempts (the green goatee was one he would rather forget), Harry finally managed to get sensible blond facial hair to match that on his head.

He was amazed to find that he could maintain the transformation with no effort at all, just like Tonks had explained. In fact he spent several more hours as a biker, perfecting the look, even adding Dudley's dark sunglasses to disguise his green eyes. Eventually after Petunia threatened to break the door down, Harry reluctantly closed his eyes and concentrated instead on his normal look. As he did, he felt his chin start to tingle, which caused him to involuntarily reach up and scratch the itch, only for him to find the beard had gone. Harry opened his eyes and sighed with relief as he saw the familiar black-haired, bruised face staring back at him. Quietly he left the bathroom, neatly side-stepping his furious aunt and began to set about his chores for the day.

He sighed as he started to vacuum Dudley's room. The great oaf had dumped dirty clothes all over the place, so Harry knew he'd have to do the laundry as well. He started to pick up the clothes, pausing only briefly to glance at an adult magazine, which was hidden under a giant T-shirt. Harry smirked, thinking that had Dudley seen the copy of Playwizard that Seamus had brought into school last year he may not have been so scornful of all things magical. He laughed to himself as he remembered how the moving pictures had shrieked at Seamus for being underage, and rushed out of the photos to cover up.

Harry attempted to cram three pairs of Dudley's gigantic jeans into the washing machine, taking care to empty the pockets first. Dudley had been known to leave things like mousetraps in them to catch him out. But all he found today was a driving licence ID card for nineteen-year-old, David Smith, complete with Dudley's photograph. Harry stared at it for a second before realising this was how Dudley got the alcohol and magazines. He was still examining the fake ID when Dudley appeared and grabbed it saying, "Not a word to anyone, alright, and I'll lend you a magazine or DVD."

"Where did you get it?" Harry asked, an idea forming in his brain.

The evening before Bill and Fleur's wedding saw Harry tentatively approach the Dursley's sitting room, where he found Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia watching Crimewatch. "I'd chop their flaming hands off like those Arabs do, the filthy thieving little … What do you want, boy?" Vernon demanded.

"I .. I will be going to a friend's wedding tomorrow and probably staying overnight." This was harder than facing Death Eaters, thought Harry before taking a deep breath and continuing. "I'll be back to collect my things, but will be leaving for good on my birthday."

Harry paused. The Dursleys were watching the TV again. He was a little surprised, he'd thought that Uncle Vernon would positively dance with joy when Harry mentioned he was leaving for good. "Once I've turned seventeen, I'm of age in the wizarding …" Vernon growled and looked up.

Harry tried again quickly, "Once I'm seventeen, the protection my mother bestowed on me will cease to exist. Voldemort will be able to find where I live and will come after me."

"You mean this Moldyvort person, the one who killed your no-good, lazy parents will come looking for you here? After all we've done for you, you've put us in danger. I'll, I'll …"

"Err, Aunt Petunia, you umm, may want to take a few weeks holiday, so you'll be safe. Maybe a business trip overseas?" suggested Harry.

"With what? How can we afford that? Wait a minute. That Bumblebore bloke last year said you were wealthy and had inherited a house from that mass murderer of a godfather."

Harry stared at Uncle Vernon, desperately trying to keep his temper under control. Fortunately, the act of thinking appeared to be taking up all of Vernon's attention and he didn't notice the TV reception fuzzing over or the windows vibrating.

"You can bloody well pay us rent for looking after you. Say a tenner per day over the last sixteen years, that'll be about … a round fifty grand should do it."

Harry took a deep breath to calm himself as an idea worthy of the twins started to form in his mind, "Okay then, will you take me to London in the morning to my bank?"

"Why London? Where do you bank?"

"Oh, its called Gringotts, it's near Charing Cross Rd, it's a wiz… er, private bank."

The words 'private bank' caused Vernon Dursley's eyes to open wide like saucers. "Yes, I'll take you in the morning. Now go to bed, boy."

Harry turned and left, pausing outside the living room door long enough to hear Vernon tell his wife. "Did you see, he didn't bat an eyelid when I asked for fifty grand. He must have millions stashed away in that private bank account. As his legal guardians, we should be able to get our hands on it. Think about it - a new car, conservatory and foreign holidays. Imagine the look on the Fortesque-Smythe's face when they see a BMW in the drive and us taking a safari holiday. We could even go Christmas shopping in New York."

Uncle Vernon pulled up outside the Leaky Cauldron in Charing Cross Road. "Where's this bank of yours, boy? I'll give you a ruddy good hiding if this is your idea of a joke."

"It's just well hidden, Uncle Vernon, The bank likes to be discreet for its … err, customers," replied Harry as he led the way through the pub and pulled his wand out to open up Diagon Alley.

"Put that thing away, boy. What is the meaning of …" Vernon stopped mid-sentence, mouth gaping wide open as Diagon Alley came into view. Harry noted that yet more shops had shut down since his last visit. The whole street had a more rundown feel to it. In fact, it looked more like Knockturn Alley with litter down the middle of the street and endless shifty looking market stalls outside the derelict shops.

Harry could see Uncle Vernon sizing up the wizard street with an air of complete disgust. "Your lot live here, in this squalor? It just proves what I'd always thought, that your kind are nothing more than filthy vermin."

Uncle Vernon's diatribe was halted when an elderly figure completely shrouded by a large cloak accosted him. "Essence of rat spleen, my own recipe, will cure your impotence in a jiffy, only five sickles a jar."

Vernon jumped and grabbed Harry. "Get away from me, you old hag."

"No need to be so rude. We hags are renowned as the best potions brewers in the land."

Suppressing a giggle, Harry tried to guide his uncle safely down the Alley towards Gringotts. There seemed to be fewer wizards and witches around, and those that were were hurrying about their business nervously. Vernon stopped to stare bemusedly at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, which was offering special deals on Confunding Fireworks and Mutating Marbles, when an old wizard collided with them.

"Special offer, Muggle detecting rings," started the old wizard opening his robe to show an array of multicoloured rings stitched into the lining. "All you do is set it like so and if a Muggle comes too close you'll portkey to aaaa…" The wizard vanished and Uncle Vernon collapsed.

Harry looked around for help and spying who he was _fairly_ sure was Fred, he beckoned the twin over. "Help me with him," he asked pointing to his Uncle.

"Sure," said Fred, aiming a kick at Vernon's stomach.

"No, I meant revive him. I'm still underage for casting magic."

Fred slapped Vernon round the face, waking him. "Glad to be of assistance. Any time you need that done, I'll be happy to oblige," he called, disappearing back into his shop.

Now it was Harry's turn to stand in shock. It took him a few seconds to notice that Uncle Vernon had staggered to his feet, and was now deliriously muttering about strange people with pointy hats. Taking advantage of his uncle's confusion, Harry led him up the steps of Gringotts.

Even in his confused state, Vernon Dursley was evidently impressed by the magnificent building that was Gringotts bank. However, when Harry guided him inside and they were met by Griphook the Goblin, things took a turn for the worse. Harry was mightily impressed that Vernon could manage to insult a goblin quite so comprehensively in just one sentence. "Disgusting, filthy, half-bred gnome," was not the cordial greeting that Gringott's goblins expect. Uncle Vernon found himself soaring out of the doorway of Gringotts and half-way up Diagon Alley where he landed in a cart of 'Finest Manticore Dung' that an elderly Witch was selling.

Harry was doubled-up in fits of laughter as Uncle Vernon staggered to his feet, trying to avoid the furious elderly witch and crashing headlong into another cloaked figure, "Spare a pint of blood for an unemployed vampire please, good sir?" asked the figure in the cloak.

With a scream, Vernon ran towards the Leaky Cauldron, crashing through the wall and knocking a small wizard flying as it opened in front of him. Harry steadied himself and turned back to the goblin. "Could I go to my vault, please?"

Harry withdrew a large sum of galleons from his vault and had them converted into Muggle pounds. As he prepared to leave the bank, Griphook informed him that one of the account managers, Axeblade, would like to speak with him. Harry gulped, hoping the incident with Vernon hadn't upset the goblins too much.

Axeblade was nothing like his name. He was an elderly, balding goblin with a huge hooked nose, the end of which was stained red with ink. Perched precariously on the bridge of the creature's nose was a pair of horn-rimmed spectacles. Harry breathed a sigh of relief; Axeblade didn't look at all intimidating,

"Mister Potter, according to our records you will become of age next week, and on that date will gain control of all the assets of the Black Family Estate. This will include the contents of vault 711, the deeds to a property in London - the address of which I cannot speak."

Harry nodded, recognising this as number twelve Grimmauld Place. None of this inheritance was news to him; Dumbledore had explained it last year. This train of thought, as always, led Harry to recall the old Headmaster's murder at the hands of the traitorous, yellow-bellied Snape.

Harry breathed deeply as Axeblade droned on, "and finally, one enchanted Harley-Davidson motorcycle." Harry was suddenly alert again, Sirius's old motorbike, that would be awesome. He'd have to ask Remus later for riding lessons - or should that be flying lessons? Harry laughed as he imagined Ron's envy and Hermione's shock when he flew in for his Birthday Party on a flying motorbike.

He suddenly felt very ashamed, how could he be getting excited at receiving a gift from a will? He'd give up all his possessions to have Sirius back alive from beyond the veil. Harry forced himself to concentrate on Axeblade who appeared to be coming to the end of his speech.

"Furthermore, you will also receive the deeds to a derelict property known as Godric's Hollow, which we have been keeping in trust on behalf of the Potter Estate."

Harry waited for Axeblade to stop and thanked the goblin, arranging to return to the bank on his seventeenth birthday to complete the necessary paperwork.

As he stepped back into Diagon Alley, he checked his watch. Still only 9.30am, which meant that he had plenty of time to put his other plan in motion before he needed to get to the wedding. So he slipped quietly out of the Leaky Cauldron and into Charing Cross Road. Unsurprisingly, Uncle Vernon's car was nowhere to be seen, but this didn't bother Harry, as he hopped on a passing bus and headed for the East End.

Although Harry Potter boarded the Muggle bus, he never got off it; instead a rough looking bloke with a blond ponytail and matching beard and moustache stepped off. This figure paused only to adjust his thick sunglasses before striding purposefully down the street towards the shop Dudley had described. Harry scanned the adverts in the shop window, pausing finally to write down a phone number. Half an hour later he sat, distastefully in a greasy spoon café having breakfast with an Eastern European gentleman.

Harry picked over the chewy, fat-soaked lump of gristle which was congealing on his plate. It could hardly be called a breakfast. Oh well, he thought, as he watched his companion tuck in; if the whole wizarding world thing goes wrong he could always put his cooking skills to good use. Muggle London, it appeared, was short of good cooks.

"My associate provide service, to assist you in reapply for any documents, you may haffing mislaid," the stranger announced in his thick accent, while wiping egg yolk from his moustache. Or at least that was what Harry thought he was doing, as despite sitting opposite the man, he could barely see him through the thick smog which was emanating from the other diners.

In between choking on the smoke, Harry indicated that he had lost all his identity documents.

"Ve vill arrange for a replacement passport, driving licence, national insurance number, and getting a new bank account vor you. This save you hafing to vill in difficult papervork. Our charges are, fee ov ten thousand pounds - haff now, haff on delivery of documents."

Harry handed over £5,000 and some passport style photos, and reluctantly agreed to meet for breakfast again on 1 August. "My name is Mr Joseph Rattyear," he added as he stood to leaving abandoning his plat of bacon, which was now covered in a thin layer of ash..

Eyes watering, Harry paid for the breakfast and headed out of the café, not noticing that his pocketful of cash had attracted some unwelcome attention. As he rounded the corner of the busy road and headed up a quiet backstreet, he spied several hooded people following him. Instantly alert, Harry noticed there was another similarly dressed group heading towards him.

Wanting to avoid any confrontation, Harry turned left into a small alleyway hoping the group would pass. However, this wasn't to be Harry's day, and they turned into the alley after him. The leader drew a knife from his pocket and demanded, "Yer wallet or we'll carve yer up."

Harry backed further up the alley, tightening his grip on his wand as the group closed in on him. All the youngsters appeared to be wearing the same clothes: a hooded top, baggy trousers, and multicoloured trainers. Was this a uniform of some sort? Had he run into the Muggle equivalent of Death Eaters? Harry wasn't going to take any chances and thrust his wand from his pocket.

A loud bang followed and a giant triple-decker purple bus careered around the corner racing towards him, causing a wall to jump out of the way. The group of Muggles didn't appear to notice this at all. Together, they suddenly questioned what they were doing in an alleyway now that the pub was open. Harry let out an audible sigh of relief as the group turned and headed towards the 'Rat and Fiddle.'

He was about to put his wand away when a large club came crashing down merely inches from his face. Harry scrabbled backwards out of the way, looking up to see a large mountain troll standing on the steps of the Knight Bus.

While trying to decide which spell was going to be most effective against the troll's skin, Harry heard the bus driver say, "Hurry aboard mate. He gets a bit upset if you keep him waiting."

With a quick glance at the disappearing youths, Harry decided the troll was the lesser of the two evils and dodged under its arm, quickly making his way to the front of the bus. "What on earth is going on?" he asked Ernie Prang, the aging driver.

"New security measures. Public didn't feel safe on the bus until we hired this security troll. Now where you heading to?"

Didn't feel safe? Harry was gob smacked. How much worse could things get than a troll on the Knight Bus? Harry stood musing until he heard Ernie Prang ask again where he wanted to go. "Err… Ottery St Catchpole, please," he stammered.

"Hold on there, we've been called again," cried Ernie as the bus lurched forwards violently, shook for a few seconds, then screeched to a stop next to a stone circle on a deserted hillside. The troll clearly hadn't been expecting the movement as it came flying down the bus. Harry dodged out of the way just in time before it crashed into the screen which separated the driver's compartment from the rest of the bus..

Angered, the troll emitted a loud "Urrrrrrrrrrrrgh," and smashed its club down through the seat next to Harry.

"You'd better pay him," suggested Ernie. "Two galleons and nine knuts."

Shaking, Harry threw three galleons at the troll, which glowered back menacingly at him.

"Err… keep the change?" he suggested tentatively. The troll seemed satisfied by this and headed to the back of the bus to terrorise an elderly witch who had emerged from the stone circle, dressed in what looked like a bed sheet.

Soon they were off again, lurching violently. I'm really going to have to learn to ride that motorbike, thought Harry, dodging the troll and witch as they came crashing forwards to the front of the bus. "Ottery St Catchpole," announced Ernie happily.

With relief, Harry clambered over the troll and witch who were now lying in a compromising position in the gangway, and jumped off the bus onto the deserted village green. After getting his breath back, Harry looked around him. A cold, misty fog had descended since he had left London. Typical British summer, thought Harry, it was bound to rain and spoil the wedding.

The fog did have one advantage though; it allowed him to change his appearance back from 'Joseph' to normal Harry without being noticed. Once back to normal, Harry put away the sunglasses and dusted himself down hoping that Professor Lupin had remembered to bring his dress robes.

The fog meant it took Harry a few minutes to pick the correct way out of the village. Eventually he saw a small sign pointing towards Stoatshead Hill which he knew was further along the same road as the Burrow. Happy that he was now on the right track Harry started jogging, not wanting to get too wet in this depressing weather. Finally, after he was almost convinced he was going the wrong way, he saw the familiar rickety garden gate and impossibly shaped house looming up in front of him.

As Harry approached the house it appeared to fade in and out of focus, and with a sickening jolt he realised it wasn't fog at all, but hundreds of Dementors. "_EXPECTO PATRONUM_," Harry bellowed, breaking into a run. A large stag erupted from his wand and charged the nearest of the Dementors, effortlessly tossing it aside with its horns.

Time seemed to slow almost to a stop for Harry as he pelted across the garden towards the few wedding guests who had arrived early. The foul creatures were relentlessly swooping down on small groups of wizards and witches. Each group was frantically sheltering behind a Patronus. Harry could see a shaggy silver wolf driving Dementors back from Tonks and Remus, as he frantically scanned the scene for his friends.

He spotted Hermione's silver otter, gambolling around protecting her owner and what looked like Ron. But, on the other side of the garden, backed against the house wall was a sight that broke Harry's heart. Mrs Weasley was cowering on the floor, her hands over head in despair while a Dementor rose above her, lowering its hood. Next to her, barely standing but still defiantly waving her wand was Ginny.

With desperation, Harry realised that Ginny had never produced a Patronus in any of the Dumbledore's Army meetings they had held, so he urged Prongs forward with all his might. It was no use. There were still too many Dementors gliding between them and Prongs. He was going to be too late for Molly, but Harry had only one thought: He must save Ginny.

The feeble silver mist that came from Ginny's wand as she stammered the incantation served only to divert the Dementor's attention away from her mother and onto herself. As it lowered its hood, this time over the youngest Weasley, Harry screamed "Ginnnny," in sheer desperation, meeting her pleading eyes fleetingly with his, until her face was totally shrouded by the foul creature.


	3. Weasley’s Wizarding Wedding

**Chapter 3 : Weasley's Wizarding Wedding**

An ear-splitting shriek echoed across the lawn. As Harry watched in shock, the Dementor vanished, being replaced by a cloud of shimmering silver mist, which slowly turned to a fine dust as it fell harmlessly to the ground, revealing a bright silver tiger. Behind the tiger stood Ginny, shaking from head to wand arm, having cast her first corporeal Patronus.

Harry had never seen a Dementor destroyed by a Patronus before. Neither, it seemed, had the other Dementors, for they fled from the path of Ginny's tiger. The foul creatures also seemed more wary of Prongs, Hermione's otter and Tonks' wolf. Once Charlie, Arthur and Remus emerged from the house casting their respective Patronuses, the battle was won. The Dementors panicked, gliding quickly away from the Burrow, like a herd of stampeding cattle.

Harry found himself shaking with relief as he watched the last of the vile creatures make its way over the nearby wood, starting nervously as they disturbed some nesting birds. Once they were out of sight the sky lightened and Harry turned towards Ginny once more, this time intent on comforting her. She was still standing there shivering, both from the effect of the Dementors and from shock. Their eyes met briefly as Harry made his way across the lawn, but her shocked look soon turned into an angry glare as he got closer. Quickly she turned and ran inside the house, leaving Harry standing there confused. Life wasn't fair. He'd broken up with Ginny to protect her, and now she clearly hated him so much she couldn't bear to even see him.

Fortunately nobody had been seriously injured and with true Weasley grit, Bill and Fleur's wedding had gone ahead as planned. Remus had even remembered Harry's dress robes, which were shorter than he remembered them being. As he sat with Hermione on the groom's side, fidgeting and discreetly trying to lengthen the sleeves of his robes, Harry was thankful that he was not sitting on the other side of the aisle. Even from this range he could feel the charms of dozens of Veela women seated opposite, although their pull on him did not appear to be as strong as at the Quidditch World Cup.

No wonder their Veela husbands looked so haggard, he idly thought as he looked around his surroundings. This was the first time Harry had ever been to a wedding. The Dursley's having left him with Mrs Figg on the one occasion darling Dudders had been a page-boy; it had not been something Harry had been sorry to miss, although the teasing value had been quite high.

Today, Ron and Charlie were acting as Ushers, guiding guests to their seats, a task that Ron appeared to be finding difficult. He had shown an attractive blonde Veela girl to her seat, and had now taken up residence next to her in the pew. Harry cast a worried glance at Hermione, who fortunately was still looking forwards and had not noticed. As he looked back, he saw Charlie drag Ron back to his post. Further forward, Fred and George stood alongside Bill, jointly fulfilling the role of best man. A decision that Harry was certain Bill was going to live to regret.

Harry saw that Ginny was sitting next to her parents in the front row. He was somewhat surprised by this, as he knew that Bill had insisted his beloved sister be a bridesmaid. Mrs Weasley was sitting with a half-empty box of tissues on her lap. One hand would periodically dab her nose with a tissue, while the other maintained a vice-like grip on her daughter's arm. Harry's eyes lingered on Ginny's long glistening ginger locks which lay naturally flat on her back. He remembered the soft, silky feel of her hair as it flowed through his hands, and all thoughts of Veela left his mind. As he stared helplessly at the back of his former girlfriend's head, Ginny turned, and he caught a glimpse of the beautiful face that he had stupidly told he didn't love. He could tell she was struggling almost as much as her mother to maintain a brave face for the wedding, when for a fleeting second she caught Harry's eye. Quickly she turned away, but not before Harry saw fresh tears start to well up. As Ginny reached for one of her mother's tissues, Harry was distracted by Fleur's entrance.

She glided down the aisle wearing a white dress made from intricate flower-patterned lace, overlaying expensive shot-silk. On her soft gold hair rested Mrs Weasley's, Great Aunt's, Goblin-made tiara. Harry couldn't help but notice that the dress accentuated Fleur's curves, something he was not alone in noticing as all chattering ceased abruptly. In unison, every head turned and stared as she made her way proudly to the front, accompanied by her younger and equally resplendent sister, Gabrielle. There was quite a contrast as the beautiful French Fleur took the battle-scarred Bill's hand. Harry took time to glance at Ron, whose eyes betrayed a twinge of jealousy, and he smiled to himself as he imagined what his best friend was most likely thinking now.

A loud trumpeting, as Mrs Weasley blew her nose violently, brought Harry's attention back to the service, a service which seemed to last forever. The bride and groom exchanged long and sickly sweet vows, which were followed by a series of monotonous prayers, interspersed by tuneless hymns. Harry secretly thought that the bouts of singing were designed to keep the congregation awake. Something, which judging on the couple of indignant prods he had received from Hermione he was having trouble doing.

While rubbing his ribs after a particularly painful prod, he noticed that Fred and George were now hunting desperately through their pockets for the wedding rings, producing all manner of inappropriate objects as they searched. Harry caught a glance of Mrs Weasleys thunderous expression, as Fred innocently asked Fleur if she'd lost the item George was now holding. George also appeared to have spotted his mother's glare, as the next things he produced were the wedding rings; rings which they had hexed to make the wearers reveal their inner-most thoughts.

As soon as Bill placed the ring on Fleur's hand she said out loud, "What eez it with zose flaming bruzzers of yours? Zey are sooo stupid and emm-mature. When will zey grow up? How dare zey steal my …" before she clapped her hand over her mouth in shock.

When Fleur placed Bill's ring on his hand he said, "I can't wait for this ruddy service to end and get my darling wife back on my own. I can't believe mother made us sleep in separate rooms this week."

At this point Fred and George remembered a more pressing engagement and left quickly, while Bill cancelled the spell on the rings with a quick _Finite Incantatem_ and then brandished his wand in the direction of his fleeing brothers. Fleur fortunately stopped her husband-to-be from leaving the wedding to kill them, and the service continued without further incident.

When the bride and groom kissed at the end of the ceremony, Harry noticed that even Hermione had a slightly glazed look and he could have sworn there was a small tear running down her cheek. Most of the male members of the congregation also had glazed looks, as they were mesmerised by an apparent burst of vela charm. But, for some reason, they no longer seemed to have any affect on Harry.

After this were photographs and more photographs, followed by speeches and yet more speeches. Fred and George made a brief return to relay an embarrassing story about Bill from his childhood. Harry could see Ron drooling over the gigantic wedding cake, as he waited for the speeches to end. As he followed his best friends gaze, Harry thought that the minature bride perched atop the cake looked very unflattering. In fact, she looked suspiciously like a young, stunned gnome, wearing a wedding dress.

Finally, to Ron's relief, the cake was cut and Fleur daintily bit into the first piece and immediately turned into a giant yellow canary. Even Ginny smiled at this, and Harry could have sworn he heard her comment that Fleur suited her dress better as a canary. Sighing in resignation, Bill cast _Finite Incantatem,_ both at his new wife, and then the wedding cake, before he howled in pain as the newly freed gnome latched firmly onto his nose.

These were the only bright moment as far as Harry was concerned, as he'd been spending the rest of the afternoon avoiding Ginny so as not to upset her, and avoiding dancing completely, so as not to upset everyone else! He didn't quite succeed though, as Fred (or was it George?) managed to collar him on the way to the bar, and by some deft manoeuvring had paired him and Ginny together for one dance.

Trying to break the awkward silence, Harry complimented Ginny on her excellent Patronus, and asked how she had managed it.

"The problem in the DA was that I didn't have a strong enough memory to use," she replied almost smiling.

"What did you use?"

Ginny was silent for a while, before replying in strained, breaking voice: "The first time you kissed me in the Gryffindor common room." Tears welled in her eyes as she turned and fled to the house once again.

Harry wished the ground would swallow him up, but it didn't. Instead Mad-Eye Moody pulled him aside, displaying his usual skills in tact and diplomacy. "Last night, Death Eaters broke into Azkaban again and freed a bunch of You-Know-Who's followers."

"Lucius Malfoy?" asked Harry, wondering if the day could possibly get any worse.

"Yeah, and some of the other scum you caught in the Ministry last year."

Harry's heart sank and his shoulders slumped.

"This is one of the joys of being on the good side, boy. You end up fighting the same scum over and over again. In this case it can't be helped; you have to fight within the law, at least to start with. At least this breakout will serve to remind Scrimgeour that he and his bloody Government haven't got things under control."

"What do you mean; to start with?" asked Harry tentatively.

"You would do well to remember that sometimes in a war, it's necessary to do more than just stun 'em."

Harry gulped, but Moody continued, "Sometimes you've just got to do it, lad. It's no good disarming 'em and then having to fight 'em all over again. Remember that they are trying to kill you, and that sometimes killing them first is the only way to survive. I'm not saying you have to do it every time, and it should be hard for you. If you ever get used to killing, then get out of the job. You don't want to end up like me."

"I can't get out of the job it's my bloody destiny!" replied Harry angrily.

"I know you've got to do it, lad. In these last few weeks, you've proven to be the best I've ever trained. You will succeed; no doubt about it. Don't forget, the Order will be right behind you when you need us, whatever you are doing."

Feeling awkward about the compliment and not wanting to give anything away about the Horcruxes, Harry changed the subject. "What happened at Azkaban? It wasn't in the Prophet."

"It ain't in the paper as the Ministry is trying to cover up the fact they got tricked. As you know, since the Dementors left the island has been guarded by Aurors. Last night, a Senior Auror approached the prison leading a flock of Dementors. He relieved the lads on duty, as he was more senior than their commander. He told them that the Dementors had returned to Ministry control and they were back to guard the prison again. Azkhaban is a foul place, and the resident Aurors didn't need telling twice. So they left - but instead of Apparating directly to the Ministry, they stopped off at the Hog's Head for a celebratory drink, hence our information. Scrimgeour is livid, but it has served some good. He now realises that the Death Eaters are not just a bunch of thugs, but are quite capable of planning and outwitting him, and that they have some very senior spies within his own Government."

"So Scrimgeour has the Prophet in his pocket like Fudge and Umbridge, then?" asked Harry.

"Yeah, they're the Government; of course they control the press. But it was easy in this instance because nobody died and everybody involved is too embarrassed to talk about it."

"Do you have any news on Snape or Draco Malfoy?" asked Harry. "The Ministry hasn't by any chance covered up their deaths or capture?"

"Sadly not. They would be shouting it from the rooftops if they actually caught a real Death Eater."

Lupin, who had wandered over, joined in the conversation. "Our sources indicate that Snape and Malfoy have returned to Voldemort's side. We believe that since Snape's loyalty to Voldemort has been proven beyond question, he has been promoted to second in command."

"It is also likely that the break out from Azkaban was Voldemort's way of thanking Draco for his part in ... in last month's events. It would appear that not all the Death Eaters were released, we suspect only those who had earned Voldemort's favour."

There didn't seem to be anything to add to this, so Harry looked around in a desperate attempt to find something less depressing to do. In the end he headed for a quiet table where Hermione was unsuccessfully trying to drag Ron away from his butterbeer and onto the dance floor. As he sat down, Ron gratefully started to talk about the Dementors. Hermione stared at the two of them looking scandalised that Ron should consider that talking about Dementors was more preferable than dancing with her.

"I suppose we should have known that Voldemort would try and attack the wedding," commented Harry morosely.

Hermione shook her head in resignation and sat down at the table. "I don't think the attack was ordered by Voldemort," she pondered. "The Dementors probably sensed the happy emotions from the wedding party and were drawn by the opportunity to feed. As the wizarding world is in such turmoil at the moment I suspect they are struggling to find many large gatherings of people with enough happy emotions to feed on."

"I've never seen a Dementor just sort of go _poof_ before," Ron made an odd gesture which caused Hermione to smile indulgently. "Did it die or something?" he mused.

"It's not alive to start with, Ron. So it can't have really died," countered Harry.

"I feel like I've said this somewhere before, but don't you two read?" Hermione looked exasperated at the blank starts from her two friends. "Honestly Harry, they were chasing you all over the place in our third year. Didn't you learn anything about them? "

Harry bridled at this; he had learned to defeat them after all, and felt that that should count for something. But before he could protest Hermione was quoting a text-book.

"In _Confronting the Faceless_, our NEWT book, it states that the only defence against a Dementor is the Patronus Charm. This normally doesn't destroy them, just holds them off or, in the case of a strong Patronus, drives the Dementors away. However, Andros the Invincible was reputed to have destroyed one, by casting his giant Patronus when the Dementors mouth was opened. Legend says all that remained of the Dementor was a pile of silvery dust – remnants of the emotions and memories that it had fed on during its existence. This is the only known time that one was destroyed; normally most victims are too frail to cast the Patronus, once the Dementor has opened its mouth."

"Do you suppose Ginny's Patronus is special?" Ron didn't appear to have taken in any of Hermione's explanation. She stamped her foot in frustration, before storming away from the table in disgust.

"No. I don't think so, although Ginny is special, of course," answered Harry automatically, not even noticing Hermione's departure. "I think the Patronus hit the Dementor while its hood was lowered, you know it was trying to kiss her."

"Harry!" He turned to see Charlie walking up behind him.

"We'd like a …" Bill had appeared on the other side.

"... word with you about -" A grim-looking Fred was approaching the table now.

"- how you've upset our -" With some trepidation, Harry turned to see George blocking the way behind him.

"- little sister," completed Ron with a little too much relish as he stood up from the table.

"Why don't we go somewhere quieter and you can tell us why you dumped her?" Charlie had put his arm firmly around Harry's shoulder now and was dragging him from the chair.

"I … errr… it's not …" stammered Harry.

"Not good enough for you, is she?" asked Bill, flexing his muscles.

"Do you remember what we told you we'd test on anyone who hurt her?" added the twins together.

By now they had reached the hallway in the Burrow and Harry turned to hesitantly explain why Ginny couldn't be safe with him.

Bill jumped in. "We know this you prat, Ginny told us. But you're wrong, Harry. Hasn't today shown you that being a Weasley makes her just as big a target as being your girlfriend?"

Harry lowered his head, he had not thought of that.

"We are seen as a bunch of pure-blood traitors and we're hated by all Death Eaters. They loath Dad for liking Muggles and arresting any wizards who bait them;they hate me for working with Goblins and for seizing the assets of Death Eaters; Charlie for keeping the dragons out of Voldemort's clutches; and the twins for their home security products which have led to the capture of dozens of Voldemort's followers."

"Malfoy and Snape knew you two were going out," added Ron, "so Voldemort will know by now - Malfoy will pass it on, trying to curry favour with the bastard. So, they will still think you two are together, unless you take out an advert in the Daily Prophet to tell them otherwise."

"Look at the damn clock," commanded Fred. Harry turned to look at all the Weasley hands resolutely pointing at mortal peril, as they had last summer.

"See Ginny on there? Splitting up with her hasn't made her 'Safe at Home.' She's still in mortal peril, whether she's going out with you or spending her entire time moping and crying in her room." Harry looked down at the floor in shame.

"Quite frankly we think she's safer with you, as you're less of a drip than that Michael bloke, and as for Dean, well …We know you will protect her with your life," added George.

"So unless you want me to show you how my dragon neutering kit works, I suggest you get up to her room and snog her senseless," ordered Charlie

Relief and realisation poured into Harry's mind in equal amounts. "I think he's got the message, brothers. Let's leave him and concentrate on getting Ronniekins to dance with Hermione," finished Bill, and they all dashed upstairs after a rapidly disappearing Ron, leaving Harry to his thoughts.

Almost mechanically he climbed the rickety old staircase and without noticing he found himself knocking on her door. Steeling himself, Harry pushed open the door and found his heart breaking again as he saw Ginny curled up on her bed sobbing softly.

He walked over to her, gently hugging her shoulders. "I've been an idiot," he tentatively admitted, but there was no reaction.

"I made a terrible mistake splitting up with you. Can you ever forgive me, Ginny?" Harry tried again, with a similar lack of response.

"Please, will you go out with me again?" Harry's heart gave a little flip as Ginny appeared to stir, so in desperation he decided to give it his all.

"I … I love you."

Ginny uncurled quickly and span round to face him with wand drawn while muttering under her breath. Harry knew he was in serious trouble when he felt a tickling in his left nostril. Within seconds his nose was enveloped in expanding bat-winged flying bogies. After one flew into his mouth, causing him to gag, he closed his eyes and staggered out of the room, crashing headlong into Charlie, who was dragging a protesting Ron downstairs.

"You didn't listen to us, did you Harry? We told you to snog her senseless, not grovel and give her time to hex you."

"Help … can't ... breathe …" stuttered Harry

"Nothing I can do, mate, _Finite Incantatem_ doesn't work on that hex. You need to see Madam Pomfrey, and it took her a whole week to get rid of them off Michael Corner's face when Ginny caught him snogging Cho Chang in the Room of Requirement a couple of years ago."

In desperation Harry turned and bumped into someone else. A heavenly, soft voice muttered the counter-curse and the bogies dropped harmlessly onto the floor. Before he could even open his eyes, Harry felt warm arms around his neck and soft lips pressing against his as he was pulled backwards into Ginny's room.

It was several hours later when a grinning Harry stumbled into Ron's room, followed by Ginny. "If you ever dump me again for some stupid noble reason you will find that the Bat Bogey hex doesn't just work on your nose," she threatened as she aimed her wand lower, causing Ron to instinctively cross his legs in sympathy.

Harry was still walking round in a daze the following morning, much to the amusement of the twins. It was only after he put marmalade on his bacon that he started to return to reality. It was time to get on with business. "War meeting in your room, Ron, after breakfast?" he suggested to Ron and Hermione, who perked up a little at the prospect.

Ron was still shovelling bacon down his throat, as Harry and an impatient Hermione made their way upstairs to Ron's bedroom. "Hermione, you're bouncing this morning. Either Ron has finally made a move on you, or you have found out something about the Horcruxes," laughed Harry as he sat down on Ron's orange bed, waiting for him.

"What was that?" asked Ron, appearing after having finally finished breakfast.

"I was just starting to tell you what I'd discovered about the Horcruxes," said Hermione impatiently. "I started out by reading 'Hogwarts: A History' again." Ron groaned and slapped his forehead.

"Where I discovered lots of useful information," continued Hermione, looking pointedly at Ron. "For instance, the sword is not the only known relic of Gryffindor. Did you know the Sorting Hat was his too? But I don't think that can be a Horcrux because it helped you in the Chamber of Secrets didn't it, Harry?"

"Yeah," pondered Harry. "It helped me get the sword and destroy another Horcrux. Besides, it's always been stored in the Headmasters study where the sword now is, so I think we can rule that out."

"There are a number of books about Gryffindor and his descendants - all of which I've read - and I've spent many hours creating a family tree. If my calculations are correct, there is only one remaining blood descendant of Godric Gryffindor still alive. The families often got into duels and wars with the descendants of Slytherin, so they tended to get wiped out. One of the biggest and longest running battles saw the Bruce family fight the Longshanks for control of Scotland. Also another interesting descendant was Ernest Slobbergut who managed to create the world's only …"

"Hermione! Get back to the point! Who is it?" yelled Ron.

"Oh, yeah, it's … you, Harry."

"Me?"

"Harry! You've got to be joking. Hermione you're taking the …"

"No, I'm not, and don't swear, Ron. Harry is the only other person on record to be able to wield Gryffindor's Sword, and do you really think it is a coincidence that Harry's family lived in Godric's Hollow?

It's my guess that Voldemort had planned the perfect Horcrux for his sixth and final one. I suspect he hoped to find something of Gryffindor at Godric's Hollow to give him a complete set of the Hogwarts founder's relics - and he was going to create it by killing the last remaining heir of Gryffindor.

But you survived, Harry. The Horcrux wasn't created. So unless he's been back since, which would be foolish of him, I agree with Dumbledore's assumption that no relics of Gryffindor became Horcruxes."

Harry had mixed emotions. He was thrilled that Hermione had traced his family back to Godric Gryffindor. However, she had also confirmed that they were all dead, so he still had no true family. Also he was frustrated that she hadn't added anything new to his Horcrux knowledge.

"Rowena Ravenclaw is trickier to trace," continued Hermione. She never married nor had children, so has no blood relatives. In fact, she appears to have been about as exciting and deep as Lavender or Parvati, except she was considerably more intelligent. The only thing mentioned about her is her wand, which she commissioned from the original Ollivander's in Diagon Alley. So I've drawn a blank there. It's incredible; there are endless legends written about Merlin; whole sections in Hogwarts a History about the other three founders, but nothing meaningful about Ravenclaw," ended Hermione in frustration.

I've not had much success with R.A.B. either. There are no centralised wizard death records like Muggles have, so I've had to read old newspaper reports;

Rasputin Ardarms Bonehead was a known Death Eater who was killed by Aurors after he flooed into the Ministry Of Magic by error. However, reports indicate he was part Troll and had trouble remembering his name let alone writing it, so we can rule him out.

Roland Allan Bent was a Ministry accountant who was convicted of telling a Death Eater how to get into the Ministry's finance department on the proviso that the Death Eater would wait until he was on holiday before attacking! Trial reports suggest Bent was a pathetic weakling so it's unlikely to be him.

Other than those two, the only details I have are about a dozen names of wizards and witches reported missing or dead by their families. But I've not been able to find anything about them and none of their names are recognisable."

"Wow," whistled Ron as Hermione drew a breath. "You found all that out?"

Hermione allowed herself a satisfied smile and turned to Ron before continuing: "Next I researched Tom Riddle's early life, before he called himself Voldemort. We know he left Marvolo's ring in the old Gaunt house, so do you think he left a Horcrux in Riddle Manor? We know it is important to him, as he stays there frequently and chose the graveyard nearby to return to his body."

"Yeah, I'd thought about that as well - but that's where Nagini is, and I don't think he'd keep two Horcruxes in the same place," countered Harry while Ron continued to look at Hermione with a mixture of admiration and astonishment.

"Well, if you want to discount that so quickly, then fine!" Hermione continued in a huff. "Next, Hogwarts was probably the most important place to Riddle, but Dumbledore's memory of Riddle trying to get a job at Hogwarts years later, makes me think he didn't leave a Horcrux there while he was still a student. Having said that, I still think we should check out that trophy. The one he won for special services to the school."

"You mean when he set that dirty great snake on Myrtle. You don't think he could have used Myrtle's death to create the Horcrux in the trophy do you?" asked Ron.

"No!" answered Hermione firmly. "Firstly, the trophy was awarded for capturing Hagrid, after Myrtle died, and secondly Riddle didn't kill her, the Basilisk did."

Ron opened his mouth as if to protest, but thought better of it as Hermione continued. "Also, as you suggested Harry, I checked out the records of the orphanage. Although it closed many years ago following the vicious murder of the elderly matron in charge, I think that the building remains intact. What is most surprising is that it is in the middle of some prime development land in a highly desirable area of London. Neither the Muggle Land Registry nor any Estate Agents in the area seemed aware of its existence, and in fact got very confused when I mentioned it.

My guess is that Voldemort killed the matron and created a Horcrux and then hid it in the Orphanage. He probably used Hufflepuff's Cup, as the date of the matron's murder was during the time he was working in Borgin and Burkes . I'm betting Voldemort cast the Fidelius and Muggle-repelling charms on the property so it would not be demolished and turned into Muggle housing." Hermione paused and took a very deep breath.

"So, I've got no idea where Slythern's locket is, but I'm pretty sure that Hufflepuff's cup is concealed in the orphanage and it's possible that something of Ravenclaw is in the Riddle Manor," Hermione concluded, looking very smug. Apart from an occasional "Wow!" from Ron, the room had lapsed into silence as Ron and Harry stared incredulously at Hermione.

"Wow, Hermione. Wow, Wow! I could kiss you!" continued Ron, before turning bright beetroot and covering his face in embarrassment. Had he been looking, he would have noticed Hermione's expression turn from smug to hopeful then to a deep blush as Harry caught her eye, grinning.

"But you've no idea who RAB is yet though?" Harry neatly turned Hermione's blush into a grimace.

"Well not precisely, but it's not like _I've done nothing_ …" she grumbled looking pointedly at Ron.

Wanting to end the resulting silence, Harry announced he needed to get back to the Dursleys before they locked him out for the night and that he would be returning for his birthday party in one week.

As Harry left Ron's room, he wasn't too surprised to find Ginny silently giggling on the landing floor, holding an extendable ear. Harry kissed her gently before whispering, "You should have seen the look on Hermione's face, though." By the time Ginny had regained control of the ensuing giggles, Harry was walking back up Privet Drive.


	4. Goodbye Privet Drive

**Chapter 4 : Goodbye Privet Drive**

Harry had expected his uncle to be livid with him when he returned to Privet Drive from the Weasley's celebrations. However, rather than rant about it, it appeared that Uncle Vernon was trying to block his ill-fated excursion to Diagon Alley from his sub-conscious in a desperate attempt to convince himself that 'abnormal wizards' didn't exist. So, as he frequently did, Harry found himself preparing lunch for a family who didn't acknowledge his existence.

Vernon Dursley was reading _The Times_, and Petunia was testing Dudley on his Highway Code in advance of his umpteenth attempt at his Driving Theory Test. Harry thought that the Driving Theory Test was a good idea, as it was unlikely Dudley would ever pass it and be legally allowed to learn to drive. He pondered whether maybe the wizarding world should introduce something similar before allowing anyone to fly a broom. It would have been amusing seeing Crabbe and Goyle attempt it, and quite frankly, without them on brooms the world would be a safer place.

Harry started dishing bacon out to Dudley, amused at how he was struggling with the latest question his mother had asked. "You are waiting at a pedestrian crossing when the lights turn from red to flashing amber, however there is an elderly lady still crossing the road. Do you (a) wait patiently for her to cross before continuing, (b) rev your engine to let her know you are there, (c) blow your horn and swerve round her using the pavement if necessary, (d) run her down because its your right of way." Aunt Petunia looked expectantly at Dudley, obviously not expecting any delay at this point.

Harry started passing round the fried eggs while Dudley pondered the question for an unusually long interval. Finally he answered, "Definitely not 'a' probably not 'd' or though she'd deserve it. I don't know I think both 'b' and 'c'."

Harry almost dropped the frying pan, as he suppressed a laugh at his cousin's stupidity. However, he recognised the irony of the situation. The Dursley's were unwittingly helping him to learn the Highway Code, something which would be useful when it came to inheriting Sirius' motorbike.

Harry had mentioned being left Sirius' old bike to Remus and Tonks at the wedding, and surprisingly Tonks had told him that her father owned something similar. She also offered to give Harry a lesson, on her father's bewitched Triumph. Harry couldn't imagine how anyone so clumsy could ride a motorbike, so he had been less than enthusiastic when agreeing. However Harry had no other options when it came to learning the ride flying motorbikes. Tonks' mother had bought it so her Muggle husband could experience flying. Ted Tonks, in turn, had given young Sirius rides on it, and Sirius had liked it so much he'd bought one.

As he waited, regretting his decision to allow Tonks to teach him, Harry briefly wondered just where you went to buy a flying bike. But this train of thought was driven from his mind, as the Dursley's and all the other residents of Privet Drive were disturbed by the deafening, yet unmistakable roar of an un-silenced motorbike.

Harry rushed to the window as the sound increased, being impressively amplified within the confines of the street. He watched open mouthed as the rider slammed on the brakes, laying an impressive trail of rubber and swerving skilfully around Mr Tibbles, who shot off in the direction of Wisteria Walk at top speed, no doubt to report this strange occurrence to his Mistress. Just before it reached a standstill the bike turned sharply into the garden of number four, completely flattening Petunia's prize winning Hydrangea bush in the process. 

By now every window in the street was wide open as the locals took in the bizarre spectacle. The leather-clad rider wrestled the bike to a stop in the middle of the neat lawn, blipping the throttle loudly one last time for effect, before turning the engine off and stepping away from the powerful machine. The effect was nearly ruined as the mysterious biker stumbled briefly onto the path, before regaining balance.   
As the final echoes of the engine roar abated, Privet Drive was overcome by an expectant silence as the residents waited with baited breath to see who the newcomer was. The gossip-mongers were not disappointed as the rider's helmet was removed to reveal lurid bubblegum-pink hair, shaved in fetching strips. Tonks had arrived for Harry's riding lesson! 

Harry rushed to out of the kitchen, and by some miracle made it to the front door before Uncle Vernon. He opened it in time to see Tonks being berated by the elderly next-door neighbour. Harry watched in disbelief as Tonks offered Mrs Fortesque-Smythe some decidedly un-neighbourly advice, backing it up with a particularly descriptive hand gesture. By this time Uncle Vernon had squeezed his way through the front door into the garden. "What in God's name is going on here?" he bellowed, causing Tonks to turn around and notice Harry. 

"Wotcher, loverboy," she yelled, charging across the lawn towards him. Uncle Vernon seemed momentarily stunned – hovering between thinking Tonks was addressing him, and wondering who on earth could think of Harry in such a way. Harry struggled to swallow a chuckle, and was returned to his senses as he felt himself captured into a passionate embrace, complete with wandering hands on his bum.   
Harry eventually squirmed out of Tonks's grip, and noticed that even Dudley had now made it to the front door, and was staring open mouthed at Tonks, along with every other resident in the street. Uncle Vernon was still blustering loudly, that was until Tonks turned to him and told him to, "Keep yer 'air on, Granddad. Well the bit what you've got left."   
Tonks grabbed Harry again and dragged him towards the bike announcing to the neighbourhood that she needed a "good long hard ride." Before he knew it, Harry found himself perched on the back of the machine, a helmet on his head and his arms wrapped suggestively around Tonks, as they sped back up Privet Drive. 

Tonks pulled the bike over into a deserted lay-by soon after they left Little Whinging. She turned to Harry with a characteristically goofy grin, and opened her mouth to speak. But Harry beat her to it. "What was all that about? Are you trying to advertise my whereabouts to every passing Death Eater?" He stammered, still blushing a shade of red which would have made any Weasley proud. 

"Don't be stupid! There aren't any Death Eaters in Little Whinging: I should know; I've been on duty watching the place for most of the last month." Tonks shook her head in a resigned sort of way. "My dramatic arrival was just to repay the Dursley's for how they've treated you this summer. The neighbours can't fail to have seen me. They'll be talking about it for months; it's not as if anything else ever happens there." 

"So you had to embarrass me at the same time?" retorted Harry in a petulant tone. "What would Remus think of his girlfriend carrying on like some... some scarlet woman?" 

"Your embarrassment was an added bonus; and you can tell Remus if you like, it was his idea!" As Harry seemed unable to speak, Tonks started instructing him on how to ride the bike. 

He soon found that Tonks's bike had a number of non-Muggle enhancements. Not only could it fly, but it had an invisibility booster, a permanent sticking charm to ensure you never fell off and the same anti-crash system that the Knight Bus had. In fact, it was so remarkably similar to Arthur Weasley's car that Harry couldn't help wondering if Mr Weasley was running a small illicit business from his shed. Harry's balance and bravery on a broom transferred well to the bike, and before long he was riding and flying proficiently, bar several occasions when he was glad to see a tree and an errant car conveniently sidestep out of his path. Although not as exhilarating as Quidditch; Harry could understand why so many Muggles rode motorcycles. He was definitely going to have some fun when he inherited Sirius's machine.   
Finally it was time to head back to Privet Drive, so he could go and meet Slughorn. Harry had changed his plans and had arranged for his Potions Professor to stay with Mrs Figg instead of living with the Dursleys. It had seemed a safer option – at least for Uncle Vernon's heart - and was more likely to lead to a calmer environment, where he stood a chance of learning Occlumency. Also, Harry suspected that breaking into Dudley's mind wouldn't be too big a challenge. If he could find any thoughts inside his cousin's head, they would likely revolve around the contents of the fridge. Tonks amused Harry with some mild Muggle baiting on the way back home. Firstly she used the bikes phenomenal speed to overtake a group of Muggle bikers and leave them wondering how their bikes could not catch up. Then there was the incident where they sped through a police speed trap, and used the invisibility booster to just disappear from the pursuing officers.   
Unfortunately it was over all too quickly, and he found himself back on the doorstep of number four. "Goodbye my little Nymph," called out Harry as he tried to squeeze past Dudley, who was alternating between sending Harry respectful looks and Tonks admiring glances, while she in turn she blew Harry kisses.

Harry was pleasantly surprised to see Slughorn sat on the sofa sipping a mug of tea when he arrived at Mrs Figg's house the following morning. He hadn't really expected the portly Professor to turn up without some persuasion, but as it turned out Slughorn seemed almost glad to see Harry. "I've been here since yesterday, Harry. The Muggle's, whose house I was living in, came home early from holiday. It was something to do with a bum scare whatever that is. Anyway, my detectors went off and I had three minutes to leave the place. You try getting a piano out of a thirteenth floor flat in three minutes." Slughorn gestured to his piano which was now in the corner of the living room. Mr Tibbles sat atop it, nonchantly washing his paw.

"Shoo! Scram! Scoot! You filthy creature," complained Slughorn as he rose and gesticulated at the kneazle which reluctantly hopped down onto the floor.

"Now lets get started, I understand you had lessons several years ago? Lets see what you know. Ready?"

When Harry nodded Slughorn started, "_Legilimens._" Immediately Harry felt something probing his mind, and the memory of his and Tonks's bike ride flooded through his brain. "Enough," cried Slughorn raising his wand. "That was truly pathetic Harry, we need to start again."

To Harry's surprise, Slughorn proved to be a good teacher of Occlumency. Harry wished that Slughorn had been press-ganged back to Hogwarts in his fifth year to teach him. The Professor's approach was totally different to Snape's all out mental assault on his mind. Once Slughorn had established that Harry was a complete novice he proceeded to teach him Legilimency.

"It's easier to learn how to attack a mind than it is to defend it," the Professor explained. "It is far simpler to break down a protective barrier than it is to create one, especially if you do not know how it is formed. Once you can break down the barriers of others, you will see how they are formed, and hence, how they could be strengthened." Once Harry had got the spell mastered, Slughorn set him practicing on simple targets, like Mrs Figg's kneazles.

Harry's first breakthrough was with Snowy who was sat by the front door. Initially Harry was able to see the animals current thoughts, "Why won't that fat human open the door, I really, really need to go out. If he doesn't open it in a minute I'm going to mess on his bed."

Harry sniggered to himself and walked over to open the door. The kneazle zoomed out into the garden at top speed. Harry turned and tried the same on Mr Tibbles who was washing his paws on Slughorn's piano again. This time he succeeded in seeing a memory and not just thoughts, a memory Harry thought was going to leave him scarred for life. He saw the door to Slughorn's room open and the overweight Professor waddled out and headed towards the bathroom. Mr Tibbles ducked into Slughorn's room and started ferreting in his trunk, emerging seconds later with a whole, cooked pheasant. The kneazle scooted out of the house and down towards Privet Drive, where it proudly deposited its pheasant at the feet of a tabby cat. The tabby, which had unusual ring-like markings above its eyes, looked distastefully at the pheasant for a second before hopping off the wall and disappearing.

Unable to curtail both his indignation that the Order was still spying on him, and the humour of seeing Mr Tibbles trying to get friendly with Professor McGonagall, Harry let his concentration lapse. Mr Tibbles was still sitting on the piano, but was looking suspiciously at Harry now, so he moved to the kitchen and tried his luck on Mrs Figg. All her memories and thoughts seemed to involve Professor Slughorn, the most prominent among them were images of Horace clad only in the small towel. Harry shuddered and gave Legilimency up as a bad job for the day. He had quite lost his appetite, and declined Mrs Figgs offer of dinner.

The following day Slughorn encouraged Harry to try to break down his own barriers. This was a considerable challenge for Harry as the elderly Professor put up more barriers and repelled Harry from his mind at regular intervals, none the less Harry was a fast learner, and eventually managed to disassemble the Professors protection.

Unsurprisingly all Slughorn's thoughts revolved around food, he saw a rather scantily dressed Mrs Figg carrying in several saucepans for dinner one evening. The table had several candles on it, and the wizarding wireless was playing softly in the background. Mrs Figg dished out a large helping of cabbage onto Slughorn's dinner plate taking care to lean over him as she did. Then she fished the main course from the other pan, boiled tin of premium cat food. Harry lost concentration at this point, he was laughing so hard. Slughorn looked mortified and declared Harry an accomplished legilimens.

The next few days were devoted to Harry trying to defend and repel attacks on his own mind. Slughorn was more sympathetic than Snape, only increasing the ferocity of his attacks, if Harry appeared to be succeeding in defending them. Harry found it hard to keep Slughorn out of his mind, although he did have some success blocking when the motivation was strong enough; he was most successful when he felt some images of himself and Ginny by the lake and in her room at the Burrow, coming to the forefront of his mind.

By the end of the week, Slughorn was looking much slimmer and Harry was heartened to note that it now took the Potions Master several minutes to break into his mind. While a little disappointed that his shield was breakable, Harry took comfort from the fact that any attacker would likely have been killed, if he spent several minutes concentrating solely on Harry's barrier.

Before he left, Slughorn cautioned Harry about the use if Legilimency. "I taught it you because it is a vital part of the learning process of Occlumency, I wish I hadn't have to. As you have seen, sometimes some memories are best left uncovered. If you make a habit of using Legilimency, you will drive your friends away, making them uncomfortable around you."

As he lay in bed that night, in Dudley's second bedroom, at number four Privet Drive, Harry thought long and hard about this statement and vowed never to use Legilmency on his friends, or even let them know he could do it. He would tell them that Slughorn had taught him Occlumency as planned, and this was to protect him against Snape and Voldemort only.

His mind made up, Harry stretched and his green eyes shone through the darkness almost as brightly as the sellotaped, digital clock which was showing 23.52. Dudley and his Uncle and Aunt were snoring away peacefully, but 'The boy who lived' was not sleeping, because tonight was going to be the last time he saw Privet Drive, the last time he saw any of them. Harry gazed around the room that had been his home for the last six years, in a little under ten minutes he would be seventeen - he would be of age, and would be leaving Privet Drive forever

Harry considered the benefits of being of age. He could use magic at home. Harry briefly fantasised about the things he could do to Dudley before he left. Perhaps he would turn him into a ferret like Mad-Eye Moody had done to Malfoy in the fourth year, or maybe add another pig-tail like Hagrid had once done, or perhaps an engorgement charm on his backside this time. That would make his bum so heavy he'd have to waddle like a duck forever.

As he considered each of these in turn, Hermione's voice echoed in his head. "You can't Harry, you'll get into trouble with the Ministry. Just because you are of age, doesn't mean you can go about baiting Muggles."

Ron's voice drifted into Harry's subconscious. "Go on mate, if you turn him into a Hippo nobody will notice; mind you McGonagall would be impressed if you could transfigure a creature as big as Dudley."

Harry smiled and imagined cursing Dudley with Ginny's deadly Bat-Bogey hex. He briefly amused himself by visualising the Dursley family GP trying to prescribe a cure for a horde of bat-winged bogies.

Harry got up, 23.58, only two minutes to go. He moved to the window and released Hedwig, telling her to wait at the Burrow for him. He checked up and down the street, but all he could see on the lawn of Privet Drive, was a tabby cat. So Professor McGonagall was on watch duty for the Order tonight.

As the hall clock chimed midnight, Harry levitated his trunk, grabbed his Firebolt, and quietly opened the backdoor, but not before leaving Dudley some of Hagrid's home-cooked toffee and rock cakes. Harry jumped over the garden wall and slipped into Privet Drive. But before he summoned the Knight Bus to head to London, he looked back at number four for the last time. Years of pent up frustration boiled to the surface, as he declared under his breath. "Finally shot of them after sixteen long years! I'll never have to call this hellhole my home again." With these simple words, Harry Potter undid the most powerful of all ancient magic, which caused the protective wards around Privet Drive to collapse.

Although he heard the unmistakable pops of wizards apparating into Privet Drive, Harry thought nothing of it. He assumed that Professor McGonagall had somehow spotted him leaving and had alerted the rest of the Order to his escape. He was starting to get really fed up of them treating him like a baby. It was only when the whole area was illuminated in a bright orange glow, topped with a luminous green skull, interwoven with a snake; did Harry realise that he had made a dreadful mistake.

As he span on his feet to see what had happened, the ground shook slightly, causing him to stumble to his knees and his glasses to fall off. Harry fumbled around on the ground for his glasses and after a frantic few seconds found them and looked up, towards the place where the Dursleys house had stood, until a few moments ago. But there was no house there now; all Harry could see was a towering inferno. He stayed there, on his knees for a few seconds, as he pondered what had happened. While he had loathed the Dursleys, he would never have wished this on them. Three more people had died due to his own stupidity, when was he ever going to learn?

Although instinct told him to stay and help, good sense dictated that he just got out of here, and quickly. Harry had planned to hail the Knight Bus and head towards Diagon Alley, but this was no longer an option. Not even the stupidest of Death Eaters – because this is undoubtedly who had turned up - could fail to notice a purple triple-decker bus, especially one which was driven by Ernie Prang! He could apparate instead, but what if the Death Eaters had set up anti-apparation fields? How far would their trap extend from the house? The decision quickly became academic as a voice shouted out, "There he is!" Harry bent over to grab his broom and trunk just as a flash of green light shot past his ear. The wheelie bin of number eight exploded in flames.

Harry dodged around the smouldering bin, and thankfully took shelter behind a small garden wall. His training had taught him that there was a time to fight and there was a time to run. Peeking out from behind the wall he could see at least thirty Death Eaters advancing carefully towards him; now was definitely a time to run. He shrank the trunk and dropped it into his pocket, cursing that his invisibility cloak was folded neatly in the bottom of it. With no time to get it, he jumped on his broom and took off, figuring that the Death Eaters had probably apparated into Privet Drive, so they would not have brooms. 

He shot into the air, lying flat on his broom as he urged it to fly up and away from the Death Eaters as quick as possible. Almost as soon as he had left the ground, Harry heard a cacophony of voices, as those behind him cast a barrage of spells. He looked over his shoulder, and all he could see was a rainbow coloured, wall of light, streaking towards him. Instinctively, Harry launched into a dive, aiming as fast as his Firebolt would carry him, for the far corner of the yard.

Fortunately, most of the Death Eaters were not used to a moving target so their spells went harmlessly wide, exploding into the roof of number ten. Harry did feel the broom judder as a several spells caught the tail twigs, and he had to fight hard to bring it back under control so he could pull out of the dive. Landing again, Harry gave a sigh of relief, not only was the broom still working, but it appeared that it really was jinx-proof, so had not suffered any serious damage.

He quickly took stock of the situation, he was in the front garden of number twelve, the Death Eaters were several houses further up, and separated by a large wall. Well they had been, thought Harry, as he heard "_Reducto_", and the wall disintegrated. Making his mind up, Harry ran up the path alongside the house, while the chimney fell crashing to the ground in the very spot he had stood seconds earlier. As he made it into the back garden, Harry jumped on his broom once again and took off. This time there was a house between him and the Death Eaters so they could not get any clean shots at him.

Harry turned and flew along Wisteria Walk, ignoring the surprised shouts from Muggles below who had emerged from their homes following the explosions. He climbed high into the sky, heading towards London. He wasn't going to fly all the way, just far enough to be safe so he could land and call the Knight Bus without being seen. 

Harry didn't know what it was that caused him to look over his shoulder; blind luck, higher guidance, instinct or maybe just years of anticipating petty hexes from Malfoy in school matches. He may not have known why he glanced behind then, but it saved his life as he was able to execute a sloth grip roll and dodge the bolt of green light which hit an unlucky bat just in front of him. Apparently Death Eaters did take brooms with them when they went on murder missions. 

Harry felt his best chance was to utilise his flying skill and stay in the air. The moon which had been flickering in and out of some low cloud chose this moment to disappear again, so Harry climbed sharply. If he could hide in the cloud cover he could lose the Death Eaters. When the moon reappeared, he looked down and spotted four Death Eaters below him. His quick ascent had put him temporarily out of their spell casting range, but the re-emergence of the moon meant that they could now see him. 

Harry was a quick flyer, and the Death Eaters could make little ground up on him, but it was with some relief that he found himself surrounded by damp, grey cloud. He waited for a few seconds to catch his breath, safe in the knowledge that he would be unlucky to be found in thick cloud. As he hovered there he thought, maybe now was the time to go on the offensive? So he climbed steeply again and within twenty seconds Harry found himself bathed in moonlight, as he hovered just above the cloud. Then, like one of Mrs Figg's kneazles, he waited ready to pounce. 

Several times he thought he saw a shape approaching him through the cloud, but it didn't materialise. While he waited, Harry became more and more nervous, until finally he saw a dark cape emerge out of the cloud. Harry cast _Stupefy_ and watched as the cloaked head turned towards him and then froze solid as the spell hit home. The Death Eater continued to emerge from the cloud as his broom unguided, relentlessly followed its upward path, until it hit a slight swell. The rigid Death Eater slid slowly off the side of his broom and still frozen, fell like a stone through the cloud.

Harry steadied himself, his heart beating rapidly. He knew it was the right thing to do, the only thing he could do. He'd told himself so after Quirrell in his first year. Even so, it didn't make it any easier. He took another deep breath, remembering Moody's instructions.

"Sometimes you've just got to do it, lad. It's no good disarming 'em and then having to fight 'em all over again. Remember they are trying to kill you, so sometimes killing them first is the only way to survive. I'm not saying you have to do it every time, and it should be hard for you. If you ever get used to killing, then get out of the job, you don't want to end up like me."

A movement below him got Harry's attention back. _Stupefy,_ he cast again sending a red streak towards the hooded Death Eater, who had time to raise a shield, causing the spell to bounce harmlessly away. Before Harry had chance to cast again, the Death Eater had sunk back into the cloud, vanishing out of sight. Harry mentally kicked himself, for not staying focused, his cover was now blown, time to hide again.

He dropped down to just above the cloud level, wand poised and waited. After several minutes he caught sight of a figure emerging to his left. Harry sent a stunner at the figure and not waiting to see if he hit, dropped into the cloud himself. As he disappeared, he felt a spell whistle past his right ear. Clearly another Death Eater was behind him.

Harry sank slowly through the cloud, pausing only to cast the impervious charm on his glasses to stop them fogging up. It seemed almost certain that the third remaining Death Eater would be hovering below the cloud, blocking his descent. It was what he would have done in their situation, and as emerging into sight would result in instant death, Harry had little option but to wait in the cloud cover.

He tried Hermione's 'point me' spell and found the cloud was drifting NE towards London, so at least they were going in the correct direction. Unfortunately it would take a while, and he still had the problem of getting past the Death Eaters above and below him. The longer he stayed here the easier it would be for them to bring in reinforcements and flush him out of the cloud.

Once again his mind was made up for him, as he spotted a figure making its way through the cloud cover carefully. Thanks to the disillusionment charm, Harry spotted the figure a split second before he was seen. Instinctively, as if he's seen the snitch, Harry dropped into vertical dive. The Death Eater followed. As soon as he emerged out of the cloud, Harry pulled sharply out of the dive and found himself face to face with a jet of green light. He had been right about a Death Eater being stationed below the clouds.


	5. Voldemort's Revenge

**Chapter 5 : Voldemort's Revenge**

Still unbalanced, Harry could only watch as the killing curse hurtled closer towards him. Time seemed to slow as the Death Eater, who had been following him, emerged from the cloud and was struck, squarely in the chest by the curse. The speed of the dive had caused the hood of his pursuer to come off, uncovering long blond strands of hair. It was not the first, but it was definitely the last time, that Harry would catch Draco Malfoy with a perfectly executed Wronski Feint.

As Draco's body fell from his broom and sped helplessly towards the ground, Harry fought to regain his composure and he trained his wand on the remaining Death Eater. He need not have worried, as his adversary had launched into a steep dive after the falling body, screaming, "Draco, my boy!"

Harry lowered his wand and quickly flew in the opposite direction. He landed safely in a deserted London back street, long before Lucius Malfoy regained his senses, or the Death Eater above the clouds knew what had happened. Once on his feet, Harry quickly took on the appearance of Joseph Rattyear and transfigured his broom into a walking stick. He headed towards the first Hotel that looked open, aiming to find a bed until morning. Harry was surprised to find that such a dingy looking Guest House could charge so much for its rooms; and by the hour too. It must have been popular however, as no single rooms were available.

The following morning, saw Joseph Rattyear once again attempting to eat a disgustingly fatty breakfast in the filthy, smoky East End café. He parted with another exorbitant amount of money, and received his new passport, driving licence, National Insurance Card and bank books. He was told that all post, in relation to his new identity, went to a particular address in a neighbouring street. If he wanted it, he could either collect it in person, or send someone to get it for him. All they had to do was ask the elderly occupant if he had received any mail in error.

While thanking the man for his documents through gritted teeth (he was more than a little miffed to be thanking the foreign guy for robbing him blind), Harry enquired if he knew of anywhere he could obtain a gun, for self-defence purposes. The man smiled and indicated he should follow him. An hour later, Mr Joseph Rattyear's wallet was empty, but he was armed with a small revolver and a box of bullets. Additional bullets, the man assured him, could be bought by leaving payment and an order when he collected his mail.

Although it was an impulse purchase, Harry had long thought that the wizarding world depended too highly on their magic, scorning all things Muggle without even bothering to learn them. He felt that a revolver could be an invaluable tool in a duel, should he find himself disarmed of his wand, after all _Protego_ would offer little protection from a speeding bullet. A gun would also be harder to disarm, Harry strongly suspected _expelliarmus_ wouldn't work on it.

Still disguised as Joseph Rattyear, Harry caught a Muggle bus towards Charing Cross. As he waited for it to negotiate the rush hour traffic he couldn't help but wonder whether he was wasting his money on his fake identity. Why had he not just asked Tonks to get him fake documents? It wasn't that he didn't trust her, he did. In the end, it was more the possibility that there was another spy within the order, the very same reason that he had not told Moody and Lupin about the Horcruxes. The fewer people that knew, the lower the risk he would be betrayed.

Harry made his way unnoticed and un-accosted down Diagon Alley towards Gringotts, where he was guided into a private room. Inside was Axeblade the goblin, who was seated, apparently writing a letter. Harry suppressed a shudder as the elderly goblin used the end of his hooked nose to blot his piece of parchment.

"Good Morning Mr Potter," he said. "How wise of you to travel in disguise, during these dangerous times."

Harry looked startled, until he realised he had forgotten to change back from Joseph. Sheepishly, he morphed back into Harry Potter in front of the goblin. "How did you know?" he asked the creature.

The goblin smiled, "Suffice to say, we have various protections on our main doors which identify anyone who enters. Identity fraud used to be our biggest problem.

Now, on to business; as was explained last week, now you are of age, you inherit the entire Black and Potter family estates. The Potter inheritance is easiest. Your guardian, the late Albus Dumbledore, allowed you full access to the Potter Family vault. While comfortably well off the Potters never accumulated large resources of gold, choosing instead to used their money to fund various good causes. So the only additional inheritance which comes to you today is a derelict property by the name of Godric's Hollow." The goblin handed Harry a sealed parchment and asked him to sign a separate sheaf.

"Moving on, we have the Black family inheritance. Again we have deeds for a property, unfortunately one, whose whereabouts I can not speak," said the Goblin once more passing over a sealed piece of parchment. This time Harry could see the name, twelve Grimmauld Place, on the parchment as he again signed for it.

"Also you inherit the contents of vault number 711. The Black family concentrated more on accumulating wealth, so there is considerably more in this vault than in the Potter one. Should you wish, I will arrange for Griphook to take you to view your new vault. However, I am aware that it does hold various questionable items, which may cause harm, or raise questions should you try to take them from here. It is the Bank's policy never to question the items placed in our vaults, unless they present a security issue. However, as a matter of course, we recommend all legatees employ one of our curse-breakers prior to entering their inherited vaults. Should you wish, I will arrange one to examine your account as soon as possible"

"Don't worry there is no hurry," explained Harry, "I'm going away for a little while. Perhaps you could arrange for Bill Weasley to have the job when he returns from honeymoon?"

"Certainly sir, and now the final part of your inheritance is one flying motorcycle. It's parked in the Muggle street under a disillusionment charm outside the Leaky Cauldron," concluded Axeblade, as he somewhat distastefully passed Harry a pair of keys.

"Axeblade, I'm a little curious, do you know how Sirius came to inherit the Black family estate, when he was disowned by his mother?" asked Harry as he yet again signed the goblin's parchment.

"Actually, I remember it well," nodded the elderly Goblin. " Sirius Black's brother, I forget his name after all these years, changed his will shortly before his death and left the entire estate to Sirius, much to the disgust of Mrs LeStrange and Mrs Malfoy who had anticipated inheriting it." Axeblade chuckled at the memory. "Couldn't happen to two nicer peo.. err is there anything else I can help you with today?"

"Could you transfer two hundred thousand pounds into this Muggle bank account?" asked Harry handing over his fake documents and bank details before hastily adding. "There is enough isn't there?"

"Certainly, sir. A wise precaution, if I may say so. Now, do not worry, there is plenty of money, you are now a very rich wizard."

As Harry thanked Axeblade and turned to leave his thoughts trailed back to Sirius. He would give up all the gold in Gringotts just to have his step-father back from beyond the veil. As he mused, he was stopped by another goblin, who asked him if he was free to attend the reading of the last will and testament of Albus Dumbledore the following Tuesday. "In the Hogs Head, at Hogsmeade." stated the goblin with a shudder of disgust.

This only served to depress Harry more. First his parents, then Sirius, and now Dumbledore's possessions were going to be divided up. How many more estates across the country would be prematurely passed to the bereaved families before this war was over?

A little later than he had anticipated, Harry found himself striding up Diagon Alley, to take possession of Sirius's motorcycle. He deftly stepped around the begging vampire again, but got held up by two witches who were conducting a very public argument about the origin and quality of each others barrowful of dung.

"It's just 'orse manure, an' you ruddy well know it, you ole Hag! 'Ow comes I can see it? Yet you still reckon its genuine Thestral droppings."

"You'd know all about horse manure, that's all your Hippogriff dung ever was," replied the other witch in a rage. "An' I reckon the sight of your ugly mug, would be enough to kill anyone, and as for yer cooking …"

Harry managed to sidestep the pair, before they started throwing the muck around, and he deftly ducked through the wall and into the Leaky Cauldron. He briefly felt like showing off the bike to Fred and George, who appeared to be having a very early, liquid lunch with a scruffy looking bloke, but they looked busy, so he didn't interrupt them. Instead, he stepped into the street, eager to see his bike. Spotting a slight glimmer against the dirty brick wall, Harry took an educated guess and cast to remove the disillusionment charm. The bike appeared and Harry slid carefully astride it. As usual, the street appeared deserted of Muggles, so Harry carefully rode down it, switched on the invisibility booster, and soared gracefully up into the air, much as Ron and he had done five years earlier, in Mr Weasley's car.

Unlike Hogwarts, there was no railway to follow, so Harry had a harder time finding the Burrow. Eventually he recognised a few sites from his other trip in the Ford Anglia, and was able to find his way towards Stoatshead Hill. He did a couple of circuits of the Weasley's home to ensure nothing untoward was happening, before he landed on the nearby road, and pushed the bike up the front path. He checked his watch, 2pm as promised. So he was in no hurry as he left his bike hidden behind Mr Weasley's shed. Although it was Harry's birthday, he was sure Ron was going to enjoy taking a ride on the bike, as would Ginny. Harry hoped he might be able to take her for a ride, alone, later at sunset if he could get past her mother.

By now, Harry had made it to the open front door. He walked into the kitchen to find that Neville, Luna, Ron and Mrs Weasley were all seated, but staring in shock, much as they had when Mr Weasley had been injured several years before. Ginny was leaning on the sink, weeping gently into Hermione's arms. Harry stopped in confusion, what was going on? He opened his mouth to speak, but by this time the others had noticed him.

"Harry?" started Ron.

"You're alive!" screamed Ginny wrenching out of Hermione's grip and launching herself at Harry. "You're ok, you're ok," she repeated between kisses, appearing as if she was checking this herself, very thoroughly. Harry wrapped his arms round her awkwardly and patted her back, as the others started questioning him at once.

"We heard about the attack ..."

"Mrs Figg told the Order ..."

"How did you get away?"

"Who was it?"

"Where did you go? Why didn't you contact us?"

Harry couldn't help but feel sheepish at this outburst of concern from his surrogate family. He chastised himself quietly for not thinking that they'd be worried by the attack, and for neglecting to send them word that he was alright. It seemed that something about flying vehicles made Harry forget the existence of owls. He tried desperately to calm everyone down and explain what had happened, while Mrs Weasley flooed to Grimmauld Place to tell The Order that he was okay.

As he got to the part about Lucius Malfoy killing his son, a very sombre looking Remus Lupin and Professor McGonagall climbed out of the fire. "Hermione could we have a word?" asked Professor McGonagall kindly, leading her into the living room.

Ron looked quizzically around and opened his mouth, "I reckon that Professor McGonagall is going to ask Hermione to be Head Girl next year. How do you think she'll react when Hermione tells her she's leaving school."

Guilt at ruining Hermione's education started to eat at Harry, so much so that he barely noticed Ron putting on a fake Scottish accent and mimicking his headmistress. His attention was caught by a loud, piercing scream came from the next room.

"Hermione!" Ron shouted and ran into the living room. Harry peered through the open door and could see Hermione rocking backwards and forwards on her heels, sobbing uncontrollably, her face buried in Ron's shoulders as he hugged her awkwardly.

"It would appear that Voldemort has regained a large enough following in order to continue his reign of terror," said Remus softly. "At around eight this morning, less than an hour after Miss Granger had left to catch the train for here; two Death Eaters were dispatched to their family home, where Mr and Mrs Granger were preparing to go to work."

Everyone gasped in shock at this news, "Are they …" started Ginny, not able to complete the question.

"I'm afraid so," continued Remus, "They were subjected to the Cruciatus curse repeatedly, which eventually killed them."

"But why? What could they possibly know, they were Muggles"

"It maybe, that they were after information, possibly they were trying to discover the whereabouts of you, Harry, after your escape this morning? Alternatively it may just have been because Hermione is Muggleborn." Remus lowered his eyes sadly.

Harry gasped, and then hung his head in shame. "We didn't even think to give them protection. Why do we…"

Harry was interrupted by the hurried entrance of a dishevelled Mad Eye Moody, "Remus, we need you urgently, there have been another two attacks." Lupin nodded and jumped into the emerald flames.

Moody then turned to Neville "I'm sorry, Laddie, but your Gran was attacked this morning as she tended the plants in her greenhouse," he said softly. "She fought bravely, she did. We found the body of Rudolphus LeStrange and we were able to prise some bits of another of the bastards away from the Venomous Tentacula. But, in the end, there were too many of the buggers. I'm so sorry, Lad, there was nothing we could do for her when we found her."

Neville and the others stood in shock, until Luna moved over to him engulfing him in her arms as he broke down in tears. Moody briefly looked shocked at Neville's tears before he continued, "She was proud of you, laddie. Only last week, she showed me your school report. She said the Defence and Herbology marks were higher than even your Father's. She was so pleased."

"Professor Moody, you said there had been two attacks?" asked Harry tentatively, desperately hoping there was not more bad news.

"Ah yes," Moody looked less uncomfortable at the subject change. "The buggers tried to attack Fred and George's store when it was closed for lunch ..." Moody was interrupted by Ginny screaming.

"Don't worry yourself, Lass, they're fine. They weren't at home, they were in the Leaky Cauldron, as usual, having a liquid lunch," reassured Mad Eye.

"What happened?" asked Harry.

"Well the twins have set up a few anti-theft devices," explained Moody proudly. "When them Death Eaters broke in through the door, the shop sealed itself to prevent them escaping. The twins had also charmed the walls to reflect any spells fired at them, back onto the casters. The most remarkable feat of charm casting, I've seen.

So you can imagine what happened, when the four Death Eaters found themselves trapped in the shop. They firstly attempted to blast there way out using the reductor spell. The rebound took care of two of them," explained Moody smiling.

"After they realised that they couldn't use Magic they attempted to bash their way out using that statue of Alberic Grunnion, which stands next to the door. What they didn't realise was that there were some anti-theft charms on that too which released dung-bombs into the air when activated. So when the twins returned from lunch they found two rather battered Death Eaters unconscious from the fumes."

"Why are these attacks, today?" asked Harry finding it easier to concentrate on Moody and not the two sobbing pairs of his friends.

"We questioned the two, after we got the statue off them. They admitted that the order for these attacks came directly from Voldemort, who was livid that you had escaped from Privet Drive. Judging on the attacks, it would appear he chose the families of those who were near you, those who faced his Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries, in an attempt to find out where you're living now. That team of Death Eaters was given orders to look for you, and also to torture their victims in order to try and find your whereabouts."

Harry flopped into the squashy armchair by the fire and sank his head into his hands. As usual, it was entirely his fault. Yet more people had died because of him. As despair welled up inside of him, he felt a soothing pair of arms encircle him. As Ginny soothed him, she turned to Moody and asked him, "How did you get the Death Eaters to tell the truth? I know Professor Slughorn isn't up to brewing Veritaserum."

"We err, an auror never reveals his methods," grinned Moody.

"What about Daddy?" asked Luna her voice wavering as she peered over Neville's shoulder. "You said they were after the ones who were at the Ministry last summer, and I was there too."

"Don't worry lass, we've got aurors stationed outside your home and the Quibbler's offices, so he'll be perfectly safe."

"But he left first thing this morning for Ipswich. He had an urgent owl, saying that a Crumple-horned Snorkack had been spotted in the Norfolk Broads…" Luna's voice failed as she realised the implications of what she'd just said. Harry caught the look in her eyes for a split second before she buried her head in Neville's shoulder.

Much later that night, Harry lay in bed unable to sleep; each time he closed his eyes, his mind relived the look in Luna's eyes. He shuddered as he recalled what hadn't been his best birthday ever. His only living relatives had been killed, his home for the last sixteen years had been blown up, he'd been attacked, killed someone for the first time (Quirrell didn't really count), and by refusing to die had caused his best friends to lose their families. All things considered, not a great day.

Harry peered through the dark across the small bedroom in the Burrow. Neville was lying on a makeshift camp-bed, very still, but clearly not asleep. Neville was one hundred percent loyal to Harry. He had been the one to come to Harry's aid in the Ministry despite a broken nose, and the only other Gryffindor to respond to the Death Eater attack last term, and look what it had cost him now. There was no doubt in Harry's mind that the right thing to do was to invite Neville to join them on the search for the Horcruxes and to live in Grimmauld Place. He couldn't leave him alone in his grandmother's place after this. Harry worried that Neville would blindly protect him, whatever the risk to himself, and while his heart was true Gryffindor, Harry wasn't overly confident in Neville's duelling skills. What if Neville died because of him? On the other hand Neville's grandmother had always stifled his confidence and independence, maybe now Neville could grow into the man he was supposed to be without living in the shadow of his father.

Harry glanced over at Ron's bed, which was empty. His best friend was still comforting Hermione. Ron had been the first to her side when McGonagall had broken the news about her parents, and he had not left her since, not even to eat. Harry was impressed at how someone with 'the emotional range of a tea-spoon' was coping. There was no doubt in Harry's mind that Ron was going to be a key player, if they were going to defeat Voldemort. It wasn't Harry that had come of age today but Ron.

Harry was unsure what to do about Luna. She had lived alone with her father since her mother died when she was nine. She had endured terrible bullying at school due to her apparent oddness, and blind belief in everything her father published. Harry, who had got to know her quite well, thought this was a defence mechanism, a way to escape a reality in which she was unhappy. Clearly, her Father meant everything to her, and Harry was seriously worried how his death would affect her mental state, which at times (Harry couldn't help but grin) seemed precarious. Had she been of age, Harry would have invited her back to Grimmauld Place with them, especially as he suspected that Neville had taken a more than platonic interest in her.

Ginny had delighted in telling Harry how Neville had confided in her, and asked her advice about Luna. It seemed that Neville had seen quite a lot of Luna over the summer. He had been helping her grow plants which Snorkacks apparently ate, to aid in Luna's quest to find and photograph one.

Maybe if Luna could stay with Ginny at the Burrow it would solve things. Ginny was a good friend of Luna's, and the Weasley family had known the Lovegoods for many years. It also might help keep Ginny at the Burrow and stop her from following Harry. He smirked to himself, as he imagined Ginny's reaction if he told her that, she and Luna could stay safe at home while their boyfriends fought the evil Voldemort. While he was not going to phrase it like that, Harry thought it would be the best solution for Luna, and hoped that he could persuade Ron to tell his parents when he returned from comforting Hermione.

Hermione worried Harry most of all. He couldn't begin to imagine how the death of both her parents, to whom she was very close, would affect her. It had taken Harry many months to get over Sirius's death. The feelings of guilt and helplessness, and he had only known him for two years. Harry was very worried about how Hermione would react. She was prone to occasional bouts of irrationality if the answer to her problem wasn't in the library, and that was just in the case of exams or homework. What if she went for revenge, Ron had summed her up when he had described her as 'a little bit scary', and she was scary when in full spell-casting flow, but she wasn't a fully fledged fighter. Harry worried about her safety and desperately hoped that Ron would continue his new found sensitive side and develop their relationship. She needed Ron now, more than ever.

Ron crept back into the room at this moment, Hermione having finally drifted off to sleep. So Harry broke away from his thoughts, to explain his idea about Luna. The Weasley family were one step ahead of Harry here, and had already invited Luna to remain at the Burrow indefinitely.

The following morning's breakfast was a very sombre affair. The Daily Prophet carried details of the previous day's attacks, along with distinguished and detailed obituaries for Augusta Longbottom and Mr. Lovegood. The Ministry, it seemed, were going to hold a memorial service for Neville's grandmother and Luna's father, but not for Hermione's parents, nor the Dursleys. Harry vowed to keep this snub to Muggles in mind, next time the Minister wanted his support.

Remus and Professor McGonagall chose this moment to floo in for a visit. At the look of sheer panic on the youngsters' faces, Remus reassured them that they were here to help protect Grimmauld Place, and had not brought more bad news. "Professor McGonagall is going to cast the fidelius charm for you, Harry, and if you'll consent, I'd like to be your secret keeper."

"But you can't be," interrupted Hermione. Everyone apart from Ron, who put his arm around her, looked shocked at Hermione's snub of Remus, before she explained. "The secret keeper can not hide permanently within the secret itself. Otherwise, don't you think Harry's dad would have been the secret keeper of Godric's Hollow, or that Hagrid would live inside of Hogwarts like all the other staff?"

There was a stunned silence as everybody digested Hermione's last revelation. To Harry it suddenly all made sense, Hagrid showed all the first years the castle when they first arrived at Hogsmeade. He had even called himself the Keeper of Keys when Harry had first met him. Professor McGonagall looked even more shocked than Harry. But her expression soon turned to one of admiration that Hermione had figured it out.

"I'm moving out," said Remus, "I'll be staying in Tonk's flat predominantly and only returning to Grimmauld Place for meetings and to check up on you lot. It'll be a bit overcrowded if we all stay there."

"You mean it cramps his and Nymphs style," muttered Ron under his breath as Professor McGonagall and Remus headed off to Grimmauld Place to set the charm. Hermione blinked at him with her swollen eyes, and flashed the tiniest hint of a grin, which Harry was thrilled to see.

After the dramatic events of the day before, Mrs Weasley was less than happy about them permanently leaving the Burrow. However with a determination Harry had never seen before, Ron led his mother away for a quiet talk. When they returned several minutes later, both had tears under their eyes, but Mrs Weasley made no more efforts to stop them leaving. She did however insist on going with them, "to make sure, that place is fit to live in and see that you have a proper meal today." She promised to return home after that – but only after another firm look from her youngest son.

Remus returned via the floo network and announced all was safe. Hermione tested out the charm by trying to floo, but couldn't remember where she was going to. In the end she had to hop out of the fire before she burned her feet.

Remus smiled and said, "Harry Potter lives at number twelve Grimmauld Place."

As if his memory had been jogged, Harry remembered the imposing House of Black. He hadn't even been aware that he had forgotten about it until now. He stepped up to the fire, grabbed some powder and said, "Number twelve Grimmauld Place". Seconds later he found himself falling out of the fireplace at his God-fathers old home. The others, including Ginny and Luna, followed shortly behind him.

"Is that you? You filthy, evil, half-bred slut of a witch," came screeching from the hallway. Their entrance had not gone unnoticed by the portrait of Mrs Black. "How dare you be-smirch the House of my glorious ancestors by your presence, lying with vermin, you're a disgrace to this family."

Harry turned to Remus with a questioning look at the unusually vicious invective. "Ah", he explained. "Yesterday, Tonks metamorphed into the old bat, herself and berated her back. The old hag was in such shock she collapsed. It's just a shame paintings can't have heart attacks." Harry snorted.

As they headed for the passage to shut the painting up, Mrs Black changed tactics. "Oh it's you. Half-bred, Muggle loving bas.."

"Head of the Black Family," corrected Harry helpfully.

"Head of the most Noble and Ancient House of Black? Never! That will fall to the Malfoy boy when the Dark Lord kills you."

"Not likely, I killed him yesterday!" replied Harry flippantly, "Now shut up or I'll ..."

"MUDBLOOD in MY house!" Mrs Black had caught sight of Hermione. "You disgusting little whore. How dare you come back here .."

Ron put one arm protectively around Hermione, as he her eyes started to water, in Ron's other hand was his wand, pointing at the painting.

"You! A Weasley, your family are a disgrace to pure-blood wizards. Look at you, you Muggle-lover. Your family are almost as bad as … LONGBOTTOM!" Neville had moved into view. "I never thought I'd live to see another Longbottom in this house after Regu..."

Mrs Black's rant was interrupted by Harry drawing the curtains firmly shut, muttering "You aren't alive, you vicious old hag."


	6. Meeting with the Minister

**Chapter 6 : Meeting with the Minister**

Harry moved everyone into the living room and sat them down while he explained to Neville and Luna about number twelve Grimmauld Place and Sirius Black. Harry still found it difficult to talk about Sirius, even after so long, so he dreaded to think how the others must feel now. When he had finished talking, he found Mrs Weasley was busy bustling around cleaning while occasionally shaking her head disapprovingly. As this prevented him talking about the Horcruxes, Harry took the opportunity to give Neville and Luna a tour of the most noble and ancient house of Black. Harry bit his lip when they looked in on Sirius's old bedroom. But he steadied himself and looked around, spotting a little handheld mirror resting on the dressing table. Not wanting to dwell on his failings, Harry continued upstairs. His spirits were lifted when he saw Buckbeak's mess in Mrs Black's old room. Buckbeak had made it out alive, now living with Hagrid, and his stay in this house had made Sirius's time more bearable. Harry reminisced for a second about Sirius singing "God rest ye merry Hippogriffs"

Two rooms were found on the first floor, which seemed ideal as bedrooms. Hermione picked the smaller of them and moved her trunk in, while the boys moved into the other room. They were just levitating another bed in through the open door, when Mrs Weasley appeared in the doorway. Her announcement that lunch was ready was drowned out as she disappeared under the ancient iron bedstead.

Tonks arrived during lunch, announcing that Apparation tests had been arranged for the boys the following morning at the Ministry. Ron seemed quite panicked by this news and actually stopped eating, instead carefully rubbing his eyebrows. Tonks also brought news that the wizarding funerals were due to take place the following afternoon. Hesitantly she turned to Hermione and explained that she also needed Hermione's help to deal with the Muggle authorities, as she was having some trouble arranging her parents' funerals.

Harry looked anxiously at Hermione while Tonks broke this news, but she seemed to be coping fairly well. If anything, her expression had become more determined and there was a steely glint in her eyes as she asked Tonks if she could see her home and collect some of her possessions. Hermione barely flinched as Tonks stalled, before shakily explaining that the house had been burned down.

An awkward silence descended, which Mrs Weasley broke by insisting that Ron write down several parchments full of living instructions before she would even think of returning to the Burrow. Even when she did leave, she hugged Ron fiercely for many seconds. With her mother not looking, Ginny used this opportunity to kiss Harry goodbye, enthusiastically. Harry felt that Ginny was taking it very well, perhaps too well. He hoped she realised that her role at the moment was to protect her mother and Luna, and that she was not planning some foolhardy scheme to go after him.

Luna, meanwhile, was in the hallway, arguing with the portrait of Mrs Black. The painting's screeching had died down to periodic outbursts as she surprisingly had exhausted her repertoire of insults. As Harry and the others moved into the hallway to collect Luna, they found that she was busy explaining to Mrs Black that her temper was likely to be caused by an infestation of Impflumps in her canvas. Mrs Black appeared to be speechless as Luna indicated a remedy that involved Mrs Black removing her clothes and singing a Muggle song at the top of her voice every Wednesday afternoon. "They don't like singing," concluded Luna finally noticing the others who were now filing into the passageway waiting for the portraits next outburst.

It looked for a moment like Mrs Black had met her match until she screamed "Filthy, little, unwanted orphan. All of you disgusting orphans. The Dark Lord will kill all of you like he did your scummy parents. First you," she pointed at Harry. "Then you," she gesticulated at Neville, then Luna, and Hermione, whose resolve finally failed as she dissolved into silent tears.

Ron rushed at the painting in a rage, brandishing the quill he still held in his right hand instead of his wand. Stopping before the painting, as he realised, Ron raised the quill towards her and started to draw a moustache onto Mrs Black face.

"Owww. How dare you defile the face of Black" she bellowed. "Nooo."

By now, Ron had moved onto her forehead giving her a scar like Harry's, and he finished in time honoured schoolboy fashion by colouring in an eye, to make it look like she'd been fighting.

"I can't see you evil Muggle-loving filth. You... you..." For the second time in a few minutes words failed the portrait as the entire hallway erupted into giggles.

Several hours later, after the adults along with Ginny and Luna had left, and after they explained to Neville about Voldemort's Horcruxes and how they proposed to find them, Hermione had made them leave the house and go shopping for supplies in a nearby superstore. Ron in a Muggle supermarket was an experience that both Hermione and Harry hoped never to have to repeat again.

It started innocently enough when Ron saw a range of Plasma screen televisions, and commented loudly that Muggles had now invented moving photographs. Things deteriorated when Ron got sidetracked by the bathroom suites.

Ron pointed at a bidet. "Look there, these Muggles even provide drinking water fountains for house elves. They must really look after them. Now I know where you get your ideas for spew from." Hermione tried desperately not to laugh, but before she could correct him, Ron had bent down and drank from the bidet.

After this episode, Harry and Hermione had shooed Ron and Neville out of the way, into the small garden centre section, so they could try and get their planned grocery shopping done. Even in the garden centre, Ron managed to create a scene when he spotted some particularly tacky plastic garden gnomes in packets. "How cruel, to dress up gnomes like this and put them in boxes. Not even Fred and George would do that, put them on a Christmas tree maybe, but never try and sell them."

Ron's biggest faux par came when he spotted another plastic gnome, this time nestled in a colourful display of fuchsias. He grabbed the gnome and hurled it over the fence, unfortunately in sight of several security guards. Hermione thanked her lucky stars that she could perform weak memory charms and vowed never to let Ron loose in the Muggle world again.

Hermione was still nagging Ron when they got back to Grimmauld Place, so consequently Mrs Black heard their return. The curtains flew open revealing the painting still sporting her black eye, moustache and scar, and all the while still swearing vehemently at them.

Hermione opened the carrier bag she was carrying and got out a pot of black paint and a thick paintbrush. She brandished them at Mrs Black, announcing, "This is our leak in the order. When the curtains are drawn SHE goes to her other portrait. Let me guess at Malfoy Manor? In Narcissa's room?"

Mrs Black quietened down, although she looked triumphantly towards Hermione who continued. "This, Mrs Black, is black Muggle paint. Now I'm going to slowly paint over you, destroying your portrait, unless you tell what sort of permanent sticking charm attaches you to this wall.

"Never, you disgusting Muggle slu... aaarrrgh!" Hermione painted a black streak across the portraits silver hair." Three strokes later Mrs Black relented, and Hermione went to look up the counter charm in the extensive Black family library.

Little over an hour later, while Harry was still answering Neville's questions about Horcruxes and prophecies, Hermione walked in triumphantly carrying Mrs Black's portrait. "What are you going to do with her?" asked Ron

"Put her in the cellar, but first I'm going to make sure she can never betray anyone again."

Hermione picked up the paint brush, as Mrs Black stared to scream. "You promised, you promised me, you lying filthy Muggle spawn."

As Mrs Black became slowly obscured, Hermione whispered to the canvas, "How does it feel to know you've been finally outwitted by a mudblood?" Before she could reply Hermione drew the brush over the canvas, one last time, covering Mrs Black's mouth in black paint. As Hermione left with the portrait, the others looked at each other aghast. They weren't the only ones who had grown up over the last few days, and they weren't sure that the change in Hermione was for the best.

"Now, for the tapestry," announced Hermione as she returned from disposing of the canvas and headed over the to the Black Family tapestry. "I never realised housekeeping could be such fun."

"Wait a minute. There's something I've wanted to do all day," shouted Ron. He grabbed his wand, aimed at the tapestry and blasted Draco Malfoy off it. The others looked at him in surprise, "Well he's a traitor, right?" he explained.

Hermione turned to the tapestry, raised her wand, and Mrs Black became a smouldering hole. Neville looked totally bemused at this point before Harry explained to him about the Black family tradition of blasting off family traitors. Neville wandered over to the tapestry, studied it carefully for a few seconds before returning to the others, spinning round and removing Rudolphos LeStrange. "That's for Gran."

An enjoyable half hour was spent besmirching the most noble and ancient house of Black, until the family tapestry was reduced to a smouldering mass of holes. When they had finally tired of this, Hermione cast the charm to remove it from the wall and rolled it up. "Give me a hand with this, Harry, its too heavy for me to carry to the cellar alone"

Harry grabbed one end and glanced at Sirius's scorch mark in the corner (Mrs Black having blasted her traitorous eldest son many years before). Next to Sirius's hole, was his brother, Regulus Astrolox Black. Harry assumed that Mrs Black must have died before Regulus, or he to would have been blasted off the tapestry for disowning the Death Eaters.

Halfway down the cellar stairs Harry noticed the initials of Sirius's brother, R A B. So shocked was he that he dropped his end of the tapestry, causing it and Hermione to career down the staircase. Emerging from underneath the mouldy patchwork at the bottom, Hermione launched a tirade of abuse at him worthy of Mrs Black. When Harry pointed to Regulus's name, she let out a small "oh" and clapped her hand to her mouth.

Ecstasy quickly changed to despair as they remembered that they had seen the golden locket. "We threw it away," Hermione groaned as they sat around the dining room table." It was in the cabinet over there with the enchanted music box, don't you remember? We couldn't open it."

"Perhaps Kreacher saved it" suggested Harry trekking to the elf's old cupboard. But all the cupboard contained was a mouldy blanket, some even more mouldy food, a pile of wizarding photographs, frames repaired with spellotape and in the far corner, still wrapped, the present Hermione had given the House-elf two years earlier.

"Kreacher!" summoned Harry.

A few seconds late the bedraggled elf popped up next to him. "Yes Master," asked the elf before muttering under his breath. "You, disgusting little half-blood traitor."

Harry described the locket to the elf and asked if he had ever seen it. "Master Regulus, such a fine and upstanding young man, a true Black, it was his locket. Kreacher helped him get it, had to row a boat across a lake and drink a poison for young master, Kreacher did. But, Kreacher was proud to serve young Regulus."

The elf stopped for a pause as Hermione gasped, "Oh you poor thing. Imagine, ordering an innocent house-elf to drink that foul potion. No wonder it's affected your mind." It looked for a second that Hermione was going to hug Kreacher, but the cantankerous old elf launched into a tirade of abuse as she approached, and Hermione retreated.

Trying to get back on track, Harry asked Kreacher where the locket was. "Master Sirius, scum, threw it away along with all the other family treasures. Oooh, how my mistress would turn in her grave if she could see the things that happened in her precious home. Her house is overrun by mudbloods and Muggle lovers. All her belongings have been thrown away, or stolen by that filthy thief."

"Dung!" yelled Harry slapping his head in realisation.

"Yes, manure, filth, dirt, excrement, all of you," agreed Kreatcher.

"No, I meant Mundungus! I caught him selling some stuff from here last year," explained Harry. It was really old and made of gold, so I bet he took it. He was flogging loads of valuable silver things."

"Master is truly as stupid as he looks," muttered Kreacher snidely. "The locket was thrown out by my Mistresses no good son. Him and that foul wolf-wizard. The smelly thief didn't come here until after he was killed. Ohhh, how my mistress would weep if she could see that thief plundering her finest treasures, and now her house overrun by children of half-bloods and Mugglelovers. Ohh, the shame of it, if only I could …"

The elf's tirade was cut short by Harry swearing at him. Kreacher looked quite shocked, and popped away with a "As you command, master."

Hermione looked totally scandalised, while Ron and Neville broke down laughing "Brilliant mate, he's taken that as an order. With a bit of luck he'll do himself a severe injury," chuckled Ron. "Can you imagine what'll happen if he tries that in front of the other House-elves in the Hogwarts kitchens?"

After the laughter had quietened down, Harry tried to figure out how they would be able find the locket. He asked Neville, "How do wizard households get rid of their rubbish? I mean is there a rubbish collection service like Muggles have?" Harry had visions of having to sift through a wizard landfill site. Such a task was about as desirable as facing Voldemort himself.

"Dunno, Harry, Gran sort of just vanishes it. I mean, she err, did sort of, err", Neville gulped as his voice tailed off.

"I think you were right actually," mused Ron out loud. "I remember Mundungus offering to get rid the stuff for Sirius, as most of the items were downright illegal, and they couldn't risk any of the order being caught with them. Didn't he take it in the batch of dodgy cauldrons he had? Fred and George were distraught when it went as they had their eyes on some of the things."

"We'd better have a word with Dung then," continued Ron. "Any idea where he lives?"

"Yeah, Azkaban last I heard, for impersonating an Inferius. I'll ask Remus or Tonks if they can find out for sure. But I suspect he sold it, we could try the barman at the Hogs Head as he was buying stuff from him last year. I've got to go there in a couple of days for the reading of Dumbledore's will, so can ask about it then."

"Why are they reading Dumbledore's will in a pub?" queried Neville.

"I don't know, perhaps because it's close to Hogwarts," replied Harry. "Mind you the goblin who told me looked aghast at the prospect."

"I should think so," huffed Hermione. "The Hogs Head was the headquarters of the 1612 goblin rebellion. The final one, where the goblins were crushed, which resulted in the current oppressive laws on non-magical creatures being introduced." She paused for a moment looking at the blank faces staring at her, before heading upstairs to bed with a parting, "It's a good job one of us listens to History of Magic lessons."

Despite the progress with RAB, Harry couldn't help but feel frustrated as he struggled to sleep that night. They had had a Horcrux, and literally thrown it away. Now they were back to square one, it could be literally anywhere. How could they have been so stupid?

He wasn't looking forward to tomorrow either. Although he was relatively confident about passing his Apparation test, he wasn't overly hopeful for Neville or Ron. Neville was going to have to do the test just before attending his Gran's funeral, hardly the best time to clear ones mind and think about the three D's.

As it turned out, Harry was right to be apprehensive. The following morning started badly enough when the telephone box, which was the entry to the ministry of magic, presented him with a security pass which read, "The Chosen One - Apparition Test." Then, they were met by Percy in the lobby, who ignored Ron's "Good Morning Weatherby," and led them to Minister Scrimgeour's office.

The Minister offered his condolences to Neville, but pointedly ignoring Hermione who had come along to give the others support. He then ushered Harry into his private chambers and asked if Harry might, "Stand with me at the memorial service and say a few words in support of the Ministry; to help public morale in this difficult time."

Harry politely but firmly declined, by reminding the minister he wasn't in full support of the Ministry's methods while innocent people like Stan Shunpike remained in Azkaban.

"You are either with us or against us Harry, please think very carefully which of those you want," warned Scrimgeour.

Harry was reminded of a very similar conversation taking place between Dumbledore and Fudge two years earlier. "I am against Voldemort, Minister, just like Dumbledore was. If you are against him, then we remain, Minister, on the same side. Now if you'll please excuse me, its time for my Apparation test."

Harry was relieved to see that the Apparation test examiner was Professor Tofty, one of the OWL examiners. The one he had impressed with his Patronus. Harry's confidence grew as the elderly wizard first asked him to Apparate across the room into a designated circle, and then back to him. Harry had no trouble with this. He liked the balding wizard who had made him feel really at ease both now and in his school exams.

"Now finally I need to test your long-distance Apparition. Are you familiar with the Three Broomsticks Inn, in Hogsmeade, Harry?" Harry nodded and he continued, "There is a deserted Alleyway around the back of it, please Apparate into it, talk to my colleague there, and then return to me here. Is that clear?"

Harry nodded and disappeared, reappearing, to his relief behind the Three Broomsticks. "Hem-Hem," Harry jumped in shock as the familiar cough of Dolores Umbridge came from behind him. He swivelled on the spot, wand drawn.

"Oh no, Mr Potter," she said sweetly, "I'm afraid that isn't good enough, not be a long way. You were facing away from your target. We can't have that now, decree 87 part c subsection 3 states that the candidate must be facing the examiner. I'm afraid that simply wasn't ..." But Harry had apparated back to the ministry. He ignored Professor Tofty and stormed back to the waiting room to see Hermione. If he had stayed with Umbridge for a second longer he would have turned her into a permanent toad.

They were soon joined by an equally livid Ron, who had left a ginger hair behind with Umbridge, and Neville who had made too loud a crack while arriving. Hermione tried to usher the three furious boys out of the Ministry, before they could carry out their threats against Umbridge, Percy and the Ministry in general, however Scrimgeour intercepted them, as they reached the lobby.

Once again the Minister led Harry back to his office. "Harry, now I wanted to ask you again to stand with me at the service this afternoon." Scrimgeour shuffled some papers on his desk and pulled out some certificates, "Should you decide to, I have Apparation test passes here for you and your friends." Harry clenched his fists under his robes and struggled to keep his temper under control. Even so the glass in the office door shook violently and cracked.

"I see", said Harry very slowly and deliberately," which side you are on in this war." Scrimgeour's face darkened. "However, I accept your proposal, sir" The emphasis Harry placed on the last word, left it in no doubt that this was not a term of respect. With that Harry took the certificates and returned with the others to Grimmauld Place.

Neville immediately left to attend the family funeral ceremony for his Gran, while Harry explained what Scrimgeour had done. Ron and Hermione were indignant at Harry for agreeing the Ministers bribery.

"I had no choice but to accept," Harry explained. "We need to be able to Apparate in order to find the Horcruxes and this will at least keep the Ministry off our backs for a while. If I hadn't agreed then it wouldn't have surprised me if the git hadn't arrested me, or worse one of you. Now Hermione, I need help writing a speech."

Over the years Harry had discovered that religious beliefs were less prevalent within the wizarding world. The only things the wizards held with any reverence were the stories and deeds purported to have been done by the most powerful wizards in history, such as the Hogwarts founders and Merlin. To a wizard a funeral ceremony was an opportunity for the family to remember and celebrate the life of the deceased. A time for those that knew them to share their most personal memories. National memorial services involving the Minister of Magic were reserved for wizards of Dumbledore's stature and not for Neville's Gran and Luna's father, both of whom were viewed as somewhat eccentric.

Harry knew then, that Scrimgeour had planned to set him up from the moment the service was announced. It was clear that the Minister's intention all along, was to parade Harry as his puppet.

Several hours later Harry found himself sat with Ron and Hermione patiently waiting his turn, as first one, then another Ministry official droned on about how they were winning the war, until finally Scrimgeour announced his name.

The trio stood tentatively and turned to face the audience, as the room was illuminated by the flash bulbs of the gathered media; prepared for the scoop they had been waiting for. Harry took a deep breath and spoke, "I didn't personally know Mrs Longbottom or Mr Lovegood, however, I know that they were brave people who stood up against Voldemort." The assembled crowd gasped, and several Quick-Quotes Quills snapped.

Harry shook his head in despair and tried again, "Mrs Longbottom was an outspoken supporter of the war against Voldemort," more gasps. "Even after her son and daughter-in-law were severely injured by Death Eaters, she still supported Albus Dumbledore."

Harry paused, "Mr Lovegood was the only member of the press willing to publish the truth about Voldemort's return. He was the only one of you, who would listen to my story, an act of immense bravery. Their courage lives on through Neville and Luna", Harry pointed to his friends, "Both of whom have stood alongside me to fight Death Eaters,"

Harry paused again, "However these two deaths were not all that occurred two days ago. Mr and Mrs Granger were killed because their daughter stood up and fought against Death Eaters." Harry and Ron each grabbed hold of one of Hermione's hands and reassuringly squeezed, as her lips quivered. "The Dursley family were murdered because they gave me shelter for sixteen years. For sixteen years they kept me safe from Death Eaters and yet no-one honours them today."

"But they were all Muggles," shouted someone from the back.

"So," Harry's voice was rising in anger, "Hermione is the cleverest witch of our generation. My mother's parents were Muggles. Voldemort's bloody father was a Muggle."

Harry had to wait several minutes for order to be restored before he could continue, "Wizards alone can not defeat Voldemort; we need to stand together with Muggles, house elves, werewolves, goblins, centaurs and any other creatures we can persuade to fight with us. We need to offer these creatures respect, they are not inferior to us. If we don't, they may end up on the other side."

Scrimgeour stood and interrupted Harry at this point, leading the trio into a backroom. "What in Merlin's name was that about?"

Ron was quick to interrupt him. "You wanted Harry to give you headlines, well you've got your headlines. Oh and Harry, see if you can get Voldemort's name into the conversation more, it's funny looking at their reactions."

Scrimgeour turned a deeper shade of red, but was prevented from doing anything as the reporters stated to file in for the press conference.

"Rita Skeeter - Daily Prophet; Mr. Potter, it is true that you are the chosen one?"

"Voldemort," more broken quills. "Voldemort has evidently chosen me, by attacking me five times now. So it seems I am the chosen one."

"Parkinson - Pure-Blood Press; you can not seriously expect us to believe that House-elves and Goblins can help."

"Why not? History of Magic lessons have taught me that Goblins are adept fighters and have been involved in wars for centuries, while House-Elves have a magical ability that most wizards can only dream about. They can apparate in anti-apparation zones and are highly skilled at wandless magic."

"Smith - Witch Weekly; Mr Potter are you afraid of dying?"

"A great wizard once told me, that to the well-organised mind, death was but the next great adventure. So no, I'm not afraid of death. I'm more afraid of living in a world controlled by Voldemort and his Death Eaters."

"Wright - Wizards World; Do you support the Ministry? Their handling of You-know-who's return so far has been shambolic."

Harry glanced at Scrimgeour, whose shade of purple would have made Uncle Vernon proud. "I believe everyone could have done more to stop Voldemort, including yourselves." Harry gestured at the press before continuing, "But at the end of the day, I want Voldemort gone, and so does the Ministry, so we are on the same side. Is that not right Minister?" Scrimgeour, whose eyes were now bulging, nodded very deliberately.

"Wendyl - American Prophet; Some say He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is immortal, do you honestly think you can kill him when Albus Dumbledore failed?"

Harry felt Hermione squeeze his hand reassuringly, and his confidence grew. He took a deep breath and replied, "For Merlin's sake, say his name! Voldemort has tried and failed to kill me five times now, I have survived a point-blank Avada Kedavra from the most evil wizard in history. Maybe Voldemort should be worried about my immortality?" Harry knew he had overstepped the mark with that answer, as it took a full ten minutes before the room quietened enough for the next question to be asked.

"Brown - Teen Witch; Can you confirm to our readers whether you're dating a Miss Romilda Vane or a Miss ... err ... Guineafowl Weasel, or a Mr Terrence Boot?"

Harry looked stunned for a second, "umm no, you can tell your readers, I'm, ummm single." Not knowing what else to say, Harry paused and then jumped as he felt Hermione let go of his hand and instead pinched his bum. He turned to look at her with a quizzical look, but she shook her head. Several more flashbulbs went off, while Ron looked quite thunderous.

"Heffner – Playwitch; For a 1000 galleons will you pose nude for our magazine?"

The ensuing pause was ended by Luna who had filed in and sat in the press section. "Lovegood, The Quibbler, Minister, can you confirm rumours that you have an army of Heliopaths?" Scrimgeour called a halt to the conference at this point, as the pulsating blood vessel in his forehead threatened to burst.


	7. Albus and Aberforth

**A/N. From here onwards the story has not been fully Beta-read. However a family bereavement means I won't be able to work on this in great detail in the near future. Add to this the upcoming publication of 'Deathly Hallows' and you'll hopefully understand why I'm posting this in its slightly raw state. (If you would like to beta for me, or have just spotted some errors, please send me an email)**

**Chapter 7 : Albus and Aberforth**

Harry came down for breakfast the following morning to find the others already seated, avidly reading multiple copies of the Daily Prophet. He picked up a spare copy and saw a huge picture of himself staring back at him from the front cover. His image gesticulated vividly apparently in mid speech. _'THE CHOSEN ONE DECLARES WAR ON YOU-KNOW-WHO _announced the headline.

_At a press conference yesterday, Harry Potter spoke for the first time about his life as the Chosen One, the one destined to face He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Young Harry, 17, overshadowed the Minister of Magic with a rousing speech, reminiscent of the late Albus Dumbledore. Mr Potter's speech culminated in an announcement of his own immortality against You-Know-Who's attacks. For a full transcript of his speech see pages 2 and 3._

Harry groaned and deliberately skipped those pages. Instead, he opened the paper at page four and glanced at the headline. _I'M IMMORTAL, DECLARES THE CHOSEN ONE. Our experts investigate Harry Potter's claims …_

Harry stopped reading and, with some trepidation, flicked through the rest of the paper. It seemed like the entire publication was devoted to his speech. Pages six and seven were devoted to _HOUSE ELVES : What do we really know about __house elves__ and goblins? Could they help our cause? _

Page eight was even worse, there was an 'owl – in' Reader Polldiscussing whether Harry was the new Albus Dumbledore, and whether he could defeat You-Know-Who. Harry made a mental note not to check the results in the next edition and instead, moved on topage nine, There was a large photo of him and Hermione holding hands, Ron was nowhere in sight. As he watched, the photograph Hermione let go of Harry's hand and pinched him. _THE BOY WHO LOVED _declared the headline. With a sinking feeling Harry read on. _Despite denying he is involved with anyone, Harry Potter is clearly smitten with pretty brunette, Hermione Granger, 17. This development shouldn't come as a surprise for avid Prophet readers, as we first broke this story nearly three years ago._ The paper then reprinted selective quotes from the article it published during the Triwizard Tournament.

While Harry was reading, Ron had been attacking a fried egg, with a vindictiveness that he usually reserved for Snape. Finally he turned to Hermione, "What was all that about?"

"I'm sorry Ron, it was to protect Ginny. You and I made ourselves big enough targets by standing with Harry yesterday." She blushed and glanced at the floor mumbling, "I don't think of Harry like that."

There was an awkward pause in which Harry desperately looked around for an opportunity to change the subject, before he spotted the Hogwarts letters on the table unopened. "School letters?" he asked in a relieved voice.

"You didn't get one mate," replied Ron in aggrieved tone, while wiping fried egg off his shirt.

"I already told Professor McGonagall that I wouldn't be coming back, I tried to tell her you two weren't returning either. I really did mate, but she wouldn't believe it," Harry admitted.

Ron and Hermione reached across and opened their respective letters. Ron's eyes shone briefly as two badges fell out of the folded piece of parchment. 'Head Boy' and 'Quidditch Captain'. He turned to look at Hermione who was clutching a similar badge which spelled 'Head Girl'. Without a word they nodded to each other and ceremoniously threw both the badges and letters into the fire. Ron looked at Harry, who was about to speak, "Don't even think about it, we're with you all the way. Although do you remember the first year, the Mirror?"

Harry nodded, and then after seeing Hermione and Neville's bewildered looks he elaborated. "When I looked into the Mirror of Erised, it showed my deepest desire, my wish to be with my parents. When Ron looked into it, it showed him as Head Boy and Quidditch captain, lifting the House Cup."

"Oh Ron," squeaked Hermione. She moved over, put her arms round his neck and leaned in, when the fire suddenly started to glow brightly and Professor McGonagall stepped out.

"I was just about to leave for the reading of Albus's will when I noticed that your names had been erased from the Hogwarts book." She turned to Hermione with a disappointed look, "Is that right? You two had withdrawn from school and turned down my offer as head students?" Lowering her eyes once more, Hermione nodded,

"Very well Miss Granger, I understand, especially after Mr Potter's speech yesterday. But I want you to know that all of you are welcome at Hogwarts at anytime, and if we can be of any help to you, just ask. I very much hope that when this is over, you will return to the school to finish your studies." Ron and Hermione nodded in unison as Professor McGonagall turned to Neville. "Now, Mr Longbottom, can I offer you the Gryffindor prefectship?"

Neville looked at the others, before handing back his Hogwarts letter to Professor McGonagall, who pursed her lips before nodding understandingly. "Right, we need to go and hear the will, Harry?"

"Just me, Professor. The others are going to Hermione's parent's funeral."

"Of course. Miss Granger, my sincerest condolences."

Professor McGonagall and Harry apparated outside the Hogs Head Pub and walked in through the grimy doorway. Harry was disappointed to find the pub was nearly deserted, he had half-hoped that he may have come across Mundungus Fletcher. However, the only occupants were the tall barman and a short goblin. The ageing barman was rubbing at a filthy old glass with an even filthier old rag, whereas the goblin was hunched over a table holding a tall glass which contained a misty, foaming substance.

Harry approached the bar and ordered a bottle of Butterbeer while Professor McGonagall requested a small Gillywater; which she changed to a Butterbeer when the barman started to pour the Gillywater into the grimy glass. When they were each holding a dusty bottle, the Goblin looked up, and Harry noticed it was Axeblade.

"Good, we are all here," Axeblade said casting a spell to lock and ward the door. He then prodded his drink, and a ghostly image of Albus Dumbledore rose from it.

"Thank you," the silvery Dumbledore said nodding to Axeblade. "I've requested your company here today, because I've moved onto my next great adventure. It is time for me to hand over those possessions which I can not take on my next journey. Don't be too sad, for I've had a very enjoyable life, achieving much of what I wanted to do. In short, I have no regrets and nor should you regarding my untimely death.

Now, let us get started on the tiresome business of my will. Firstly, to Harry, I would like you to have my collection of socks. Harry, as I once told you, one can never have enough socks. Also you shall receive my pensieve. Unfortunately it won't contain my memories as they will leave this earth with me, but it will help you keep a well ordered mind. It should prove an invaluable tool throughout your life, as it did during mine." The silvery image nodded to Harry, who was in shock at the prospect of receiving his beloved mentor's belongings. It somehow made it all seem so final.

The ghostly Dumbledore had by now continued speaking, "Next, Minerva; I would like to leave you all the remaining possessions within my office, with the exception of Fawkes's perch. This you will have to pass on to his new owner. The texts and instruments I kept in my office will prove invaluable in your day-to-day running of Hogwarts. You will now know all that goes on within the castles walls." Harry glanced at Professor McGonagall and noticed her eyes, usually devoid of expression, were misting over.

"Finally, I leave the remainder of my possessions to my brother, Aberforth. Please allow the Order full use of anything that they may need, including my Gringotts vault. Tell them not to be disheartened, Fawkes will find a new companion, whom he will determine as a worthy leader for the Order. One who will bring renewed hope to this battle." With this the wispy Dumbledore sank back into the glass and Harry looked around, where was Aberforth Dumbledore?

Axeblade stood, preparing to leave. "Ms McGonagall, I understand as Headmistress that you have access to the late Albus Dumbledore's office?" She sniffed and nodded as the goblin continued, "Can I ask that you pass on his pensieve and phoenix perch as per his wishes?" She nodded again.

"Mr Dumbledore, here is your new Gringott's key." Axeblade passed a gold key over to the barman, "Can I ask that you accede to his wishes for using the contents of the vault?" The barman nodded and with a jolt, Harry realised he must be Dumbledore's brother. Axeblade bade them all good day, unlocked the door and left.

Harry stared at Aberforth, as he mentally cursed himself for not putting two and two together and figuring out his identity. On his first visit to the pub, to organise the DA, Harry had thought the tall, grey-haired barman had looked familiar. Then there was the strange goat smell in the air. Dumbledore had once told Harry that his brother had been prosecuted for performing an inappropriate charm on a goat. His thoughts were broken, as he became aware that McGonagall was talking to him.

"Harry, would you accompany me back to the school? Albus's portrait has woken up and wants to talk with you." Harry hesitantly agreed to join her later. He wanted to talk with Aberforth first to see if he knew anything about the locket.

After the Headmistress had left for Hogwarts, Aberforth turned to Harry. "Surprised, to find out that I'm Albus's brother?" Harry nodded, "He was definitely the white sheep of the family, and not just by name. Our parents and generations before them were simple goat farmers. Myself, I'm not clever like Albus was; I just wanted the simple life too. But there's not much money in goat farming these days, so Albus bought me this pub. Mind you, I still keep a few precious goats round the back, want to meet them?"

Before Harry could reply, Aberforth had locked the door once more and was heading out the back. "Despite his fame, Albus regularly found time to come and see me. At least once a month he would come round for a quiet drink; liked to catch up on the gossip I'd overheard, he did."

Harry privately thought that learning information from the criminal underworld was probably the main reason why Albus had bought his brother a pub.

"This is Molly and Tiddles," announced Aberforth as they reached an outhouse behind the pub that had been converted into several stables. Two goats ambled over to the doorway to meet them. "Darlings, this is the famous Harry Potter, I've been telling you about." The goats jumped up against the door and nuzzled Aberforth's hand, eating some snacks which suddenly appeared there. Harry was also introduced to Polly, Biggy, Skippy, Daisy and Billy.

After what seemed like hours of petting and feeding treats to his goats, Aberforth seemed to remember Harry and turned back to him. Harry used this as an opportunity to ask about the locket.

"I dunno, I buy quite a few things from Dung every time he's skint. I didn't realise any of it was yours or I'd have passed it onto Albus, you know." The old wizard smiled fondly as he entered the back room, which was as far as Harry could see completely empty. "Now, just wait here a second would you, Harry. Albus set up a few security spells for me in case, well you know, can't be too careful."

Aberforth shut the door and all Harry could hear was a few muttered incantations. The door reopened slowly and Harry saw a giant chest had materialised in the middle of the floor, Aberforth beckoned him over. "Now it was gold this locket, right?" Harry nodded. "Precious metals!" commanded Aberforth at the chest, before opening it. The entire of the chest was full to the brim of gold and silver items. Harry could see some grotesque trophies, replacement limbs, masses of jewellery, the Black family candlesticks and in the far corner a small heavy gold locket. Harry's heart missed a beat; trying to remember how to breathe, he reached in and grasped the locket. As he pulled it out, he asked Aberforth, "Did Dumbledore, I mean Albus, look through here at all?"

"He used to, quite regularly. Really enjoyed poking about in here, he did. But it must have been a fair few months since he last looked. He was so busy with this Voldemort business. Mind you he asked me to let him know if I got hold of certain items. You've found what you were looking for?" finished Aberforth, glancing around anxiously.

Harry examined the locket and turned it over in his hand. The reverse side was completely blank, no markings at all. Yet in all other ways it was identical to the locket he'd seen in the pensieve. Just how many fake copies of Slythrein's locket was he going to have to track down before he found the real one? Harry tried to open the locket, but it remained resolutely shut, even when he slammed it down in frustration.

As he stared dejectedly at it, a memory floated into his head of Mundungus and Sirius at the dinner table discussing the candlesticks.

"Finest sixteenth century goblin wrought silver and embossed with the Black family crest."

"It would come off though".

So what if Mundungus had removed the mark of Slytherin from the locket? But why would he do that? It would turn a priceless relic into something worthless. The vast majority of its value would be because of Slytherin's mark. But on the other hand, if you could disguise the mark and hide it, intending to buy it back later...

Harry raised his wand at the locket and muttered, "_Finite incantatem."_ Very slowly an engraving of a serpent was uncovered. Harry turned back to Aberforth and nodded, "I've found it."

"Merlin's beard! That's Slytherin's" exclaimed Aberforth. They were both silent for a few seconds as the reality of it sank in. "How could I have missed it? Albus asked specifically for any relics of the Hogwarts founders."

Harry asked if he could buy it. "Take it lad, I can tell it's important. Albus didn't want this for the school trophy cabinet did he?" Harry shook his head and thanked the old barman and headed towards Hogwarts.

Not for the first time in his life, Harry found himself stood by the gargoyle, which controlled access to the Head's office in the castle, without the foggiest idea of the password. "Lemon drops … chocolate frogs .. Sugar quills … every flavour beans … cauldron cakes." Harry eventually gave up and swore at the gargoyle in a fit of petulance.

To his complete and utter amazement the Gargoyle responded to his foul outburst and moved aside allowing him to ascend to the Head's suite. He knocked on the door and was let in by a surprised Professor McGonagall.

"You guessed the password?" she asked.

"Err ... yeah" said Harry, looking everywhere but at her. His eyes caught sight of the portrait of Professor Dumbledore who was sat in a chintzy, purple armchair. The former Head was peering over a copy of the Daily Prophet at Harry, his eyes twinkling as usual.

"I'm sure you and Albus have a lot to discuss, so I'll leave you for a while. Come and find me in my old office when you're ready," and with that she turned and left.

"How could you have trusted him? The … the murdering … bastard killed you."

"That's Professor Snape to you, Harry," replied Dumbledore smiling. "I'm afraid it will have to remain enough that I trusted him and still do. Now I would like you to fill me in, on the unfortunate events that day. My portrait is only aware of what I knew at the time of painting, plus any subsequent information it has been told. While I was alive, I made sure I updated myself every night. It was somewhat like keeping a diary, even if Sybil caught me talking to myself the one evening and accused me of stealing her sherry. Anyway I digress."

Harry explained about the Horcrux hunt and, with tears streaming down his cheeks, he explained how first Draco had betrayed him and then how Snape had murdered him in cold blood.

"And I pleaded with Severus?" asked Dumbledore.

"Yes, and despite all you've done for him he still killed you, _Avada Kedavra_'d you, just like that in cold blood. How could you have trusted him?"

Dumbledore started to say that he still trusted him, but Harry cut him off in a rage. "Well I don't. I can never forgive him for killing you, Sirius and my parents. As far as I'm concerned he's as evil as Voldemort himself, and then next time we meet I WILL KILL HIM." Harry was shouting by the end of this and his green eyes glinted with a rage that Dumbledore had never seen before.

"Very well, Harry, I will explain my reasoning to you. Severus Snape came to me shortly after he had told Voldemort of the prophecy. Voldemort had commanded the murder your parents, and Severus was rather fond of your mother. He remembered her as a student, one who had always stood up for him. I believe that Severus couldn't bear to be responsible for the death of someone he had known; someone who he had memories and possibly feelings for.

Harry shuddered, "It was a lie. Snape made it up to save his own pitiful yellow skin. Can't you see he double-crossed you? He was a Master Occlumens for Merlin's sake. How could you have been so stupid?"

"Severus has provided me with much information over the years, and I have no evidence he has ever done anything to betray me. But it is true I doubted his integrity to start with. Unfortunately, Severus's legilimency skills meant he was aware that I didn't fully trust him, so to guarantee his loyalty, Severus insisted on swearing an unbreakable vow that he would be my loyal servant."

At Harry's surprised look, Dumbledore elaborated, "As you well know, an unbreakable vow is the most powerful allegiance known to wizard-kind. If the oath is broken the swearer will die. It is therefore, a highly dangerous piece of magic; one that should not be entered into lightly as it invariably leads to life or death decisions. However, Severus was young, foolish and desperate to prove his loyalty to me.

Unfortunately, his carefree attitude to these unbreakable vows didn't end there. Last year Severus swore an Oath to Narcissa Malfoy to carry out whatever task Voldemort had set for young Mr Malfoy, in the event he failed to carry it out. As we now know, but Severus didn't at the time, Draco Malfoy was given the task to kill me. On the Astronomy Tower, Professor Snape had no choice. If he failed to kill me, he would die, and if he did kill me he would betray me and die. However, by all accounts I was near to death anyway. My arm was weakened last summer, my body weakened badly from that poison." Harry swallowed and shuddered at the memory while Albus continued. "So I pleaded with Severus to kill me, thus allowing him a way to survive. If I am right, Severus Snape will now be the most trusted Death Eater in Voldemort's inner circle, with his loyalty indisputable. You and the order will need to exploit that."

"I can't trust him, how can his life be more valuable than yours?"

"Harry, you must put your prejudices aside and trust in Severus, for he alone will get you close to Voldemort when the time comes. I also believe that young Mr Malfoy can still be saved, he may prove useful."

"I don't", replied Harry with apathy, before he explained about the Broom chase. Bit by bit Harry relayed all that had happened since Dumbledore's death. The old wizard was very impressed that Hermione had figured out that Harry was the Heir of Godric Gryffindor. "Don't tell Minerva, but that is how you are able to get into this office. The gargoyle will recognise the current Head, as well as any descendants of the original founders."

Harry blushed deeply as Dumbledore continued, "All you have to do is ask it open, there is no need to swear at it. Although, I do remember your father having immense fun one day, at my expense when he was charged with escorting the then chairman of the governors up to my office. But that's a story for another time."

Dumbledore was also in agreement with Hermione's theory about the orphanage Horcrux, and was impressed by the trail which had led them to Slytherin's locket.

Harry proudly displayed both lockets to the painting, before asking how to kill the Horcrux.

"Very simple, Harry, it is part of his soul. So you must kill it in the same way you would kill anything else. Mind you, I found that a simple _Avada Kedavra_ was easier than using Basilisk venom."

Harry blanched visibly as the thought of using the killing curse. Noticing this, Dumbledore's portrait continued, "I'm very heartened to see that this idea causes you problems. It is this very thing which makes you different from the Death Eaters. However, sometimes we have no choice, and for the greater good, we must commit an act of unspeakable evil. If you can do it yourself, it would be for the best. If you are unable, I suggest you approach Alastor."

"You are sure that the killing curse will work? Won't it just bounce off solid objects?" queried Harry, his reluctance to have to use an unforgivable curse apparent.

"That's correct, Harry. _Avada Kedavra_ destroys the soul, and an inanimate object has no soul. Hence moving something in the way of that curse is the only way of stopping it, as I've demonstrated to Tom several times. However, a Horcrux contains a soul, and so can be destroyed by the killing curse."

"So, why didn't the part of Voldemort's soul just die when his killing curse rebounded on him?" questioned Harry hesitantly.

"That is the very crux of Horcruxes, Harry. The original part of the soul can not be destroyed while any Horcrux exists.

"So, in that case, why did his body die when he killed … killed my mum?"

"As you have seen, sometimes the killing curse will destroy a solid object, it causes it to explode. I believe that the curse damaged Voldemort's body so much, that it could not sustain life, and his soul was expelled from it." Harry's eyes lit up at the thought.

"I must caution you, Harry, that the magic Voldemort used to return himself to his body, was unspeakably evil. He has returned in a body which is no longer human. It is my belief that not even the killing curse will destroy it this time. It is for this reason that you must ensure that you destroy every Horcrux before you attempt to kill Tom Riddle."

As Dumbledore was starting to look tired, Harry prepared to leave. "Don't forget the pensieve, Harry. In your short life, you have gained more dreadful memories than anyone and this will be invaluable for you. A pensieve is probably the most powerful, yet equally most dangerous tool a wizard can own. You can store away the most painful of memories, keeping only a vague recollection in your mind. You can revisit early or vague memories with absolute clarity, and lastly it can be immense fun at parties.

However I must caution you, like the Mirror of Erised, it is not wise to spend too long dwelling on the past. Similarly we learn from bad experiences, so to be able to remove all regret from your mind would make one act without a conscience.

Now, on a lighter note, please take a chocolate before you go. Harry looked down and saw a pile of chocolate frogs on the edge of the desk, so he reached and grabbed one, intending to put it in his pocket for later.

"I suggest you eat it now, otherwise it will melt." Harry shrugged and unwrapped the sweet, just managing to catch it as it hopped out of the packing. Instinctively he turned the card over to see which famous wizard he'd got. 'Albus Dumbledore'.

Harry looked up to the painting, whose eyes were twinkling. "The picture on my chocolate frog card can't talk to you, but that doesn't mean it can't help you. It can visit my main portrait here, and can carry messages. As you well know there are a lot of connected portraits in this office, so if you ever need help…"

Harry acknowledged his mentor and carefully pocketed the card before he headed back to see Professor McGonagall and use her old office to floo back to Grimmauld Place. The first thing he saw was Hermione, who was curled up on the sofa crying. As Harry had suspected the funeral service had hammered home to her, that she would never see her parents again. But despite it all, she managed to smile weakly at him as he fell over the hearth rug and the pensieve landed on top of him.

"Scourgify", she called, between sobs, removing the soot which Harry was attempting to rub from his robes. The crash as he fell, had alerted Ron and Neville, who appeared with wands drawn from the hallway. Seeing there was no danger, Neville used his wand to levitate a plate of sandwiches from the kitchen. Ron grabbed three as the plate floated past him. So that's where he honed his keeper skills, thought Harry wryly looking at his best friend, who was now attempting to stuff all three sandwiches in his mouth at the same time. Hermione shook her head as the plate landed near her.

"Go on, love, you've got to eat," spluttered Ron, spraying sandwich everywhere. As Hermione removed a piece of pickle from her hair and drew her wand at Ron, Harry gave a quick Umbridge cough and pulled the real locket from his pocket. This captured the others attention and he retold all he had heard from Aberforth and Dumbledore's portrait. When Neville asked him if he had destroyed the Horcrux yet, Harry stalled, saying he was going to work up to it overnight.

Neville nodded, but their attention was diverted by a green flash which sailed past them and hit the locket dead centre. It burst open with a dreadful, ear-splitting scream and a thin, black mist rose from it. Harry turned in shock to see Hermione pointing her wand at the locket. Quickly he focused back on the mist while warning the others to keep back.

"Its part of Voldemort's soul. Although it's probably now dead, I don't want to run the risk of it entering any of our bodies." As they backed away, Harry cast a quick _Reducto_ on the window, which shattered and the mist slowly dissipated into the air outside. Casting _Reparo_ to fix the window, Harry turned to Hermione, but she cut him off before he could speak.

"Someone had to do it, Harry. Now, Ron, how about that sandwich?"


	8. Memories

**Chapter 8 : Memories**

Never one to turn down the opportunity of more food, Ron had disappeared into the kitchen to refill the plate and fetch more butterbeers. "Three down and three to go is worthy of a celebration," he announced as he returned, breaking the stunned silence which had remained since Hermione's killing curse.

Harry trawled through his mind, seeking something to break the awkwardness of the moment, when he remembered what Dumbledore had said. He fetched the pensieve over. "Dumbledore said these were excellent for parties and I agree with Ron, we should celebrate tonight. I would like each of us to pick a really happy memory, place it in the pensieve and share it with each other." Harry paused, as Neville gave him a confused look, having never seen a pensieve before. So Harry had to explain how it worked, and ended up demonstrating by placing his wand to his temple and drawing a silver strand of memory into the pensieve. "Ok now, everyone hold my hand and just lean in."

Ron stepped back. "Its perfectly safe just lean in," urged Harry.

"I know its safe, I just don't think I'm ready to see you and my sister getting that personal!"

"Idiot, that's not the memory I've chosen", blushed Harry.

He had actually chosen his trip to Diagon Alley with Hagrid. This was when he saw the magical world for the first time. While Harry had many great memories, most involved at least one of the others, or as Ron had guessed were too personal to share. So he had chosen the only good memory he had from his life before he met Ron and Hermione.

This was the first time the others had been inside a memory and it took most of the trip to Gringotts and down to Harry's vault, before they fully understood and were comfortable with the concept. But even this memory was tinged with sadness. There was Harry's first encounter with Draco Malfoy at Madam Malkin's robe shop, and now little Harry was being led into Ollivander's by Hagrid. Harry looked at the old shop, which in current times was boarded up, following the capture of Mr Ollivander by Death Eaters. He looked at the old sign, 'Ollivanders : Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC' .

"I reckon that window display has been there since 382BC!" Ron commented pointing at the single wand resting on a faded purple cushion. Even Hermione smirked at this, and at the initial failed attempts to find a wand for Harry. She ooh'd at his expense when Hagrid appeared with Hedwig. Finally the memory ended and they were thrown back into the present, on the floor in Grimmauld Place.

"Wow that was so clear, you must have a great memory, Harry," commented Neville.

"No, the pensieve allows you to relive the memory exactly as you originally saw it, even if you think you've forgotten parts of it."

Neville thought for a while, as Ron fetched more Butterbeers. "So, could I look at memories from my childhood, and see my parents before they were attacked?" he questioned.

Harry nodded, but carefully explained to Neville about his experiences with the Mirror of Erised and reiterated Dumbledore's warning about not dwelling on the past.

Although Neville acknowledged what Harry was saying, he wasn't to be put off, "I've got a vague memory of me annoying my father by crawling on his work. Please try it, just once?"

Neville looked so eager, that Harry gave in and showed him how to place a memory into the pensieve, before the four once again dived in. After the whirling mist came to a stop, Harry opened his eyes and looked around. They were all crowded into a small living room which, at first, he thought was Mrs Figg's on account of the tasteless interior decorations. However, the absence of any Kneazles or putrefying cabbage smells meant it couldn't be.

Stretched out on a hideous brown and orange striped sofa was a young man. Harry gasped as he recognised the figure as the lifeless shell of a man he had seen in the Permanent Spell Damage ward of St Mungo's. Neville's father looked so much younger and healthier in this memory. From the frown on his face, Harry could tell that he was hard at work. Neville's dad sighed and absentmindedly rubbed his forehead as he pondered over various pieces of parchment which were scattered, not only on the sofa, but all over the thick-pile orange carpet which adorned the floor.

Harry turned as he heard a giggle and spotted a young baby crawling determinedly from an open doorway towards the sofa. This must be baby Neville he thought, and caught Ron's eye as they both smothered grins. By now, baby Neville had made it to his Dad. He plopped himself down on the floor, directly on top of the largest piece of parchment, which his dad was studying. Neville appeared to like the rustling sound it made as he sat down, for no sooner was he seated than he kicked his feet up and down on what Harry thought looked like a map.

"Neville, don't, I'm busy at the moment," said his father picking baby Neville up and placing him away from the map. Several seconds later Neville had worked his way back onto the map again, sitting just where his father was studying it. As this was repeated several more times, Harry glanced around at the others. Hermione was looking at the baby with a very odd look that bordered somewhere between envy and desire. Harry thought it was a good job that Ron was busy teasing the current Neville, and hadn't seen Hermione's face.

"So Neville, from what Luna tells me you haven't changed at all, still determined to get what you want eh?"

Neville blushed red, but was saved as his father picked up his baby self and carefully sat him on the sofa. "Alice, can you put Neville to bed, dear. I need to concentrate."

"Coming, Frank. Just finishing ofhis dinner." Neville's mum strode out of the kitchen. She was much taller than Harry remembered, and her hair was longer, stretching halfway down her back in long-blonde locks, much like Luna's did. If it weren't for having Neville's chubby round face, Alice Longbottom could have been mistaken for an older Luna, something that Ron couldn't resist commenting on. Alice Longbottom picked up baby Neville, pried several pieces of parchment from his hands, and carried him out of the room. As she did this, the memory started to fade and everyone found themselves back in Grimmauld Place.

"Awww Neville," Hermione rushed over and enveloped Neville in a giant hug. Harry was pretty sure he could hear both of them sobbing gently, so he turned away discretely toward Ron. Ron opened his mouth to say something, but met Hermione's bloodshot eyes and decided against teasing Neville, just then.

"So we try and break the Fidelius charm and find the Orphanage tommorow then?" Harry tried to change the subject before his best mate got into trouble.

Hermione pulled away from Neville, "I thought you wanted to see Godric's Hollow?"

"I do, desperately. I've never even seen my parents' graves. I really want to tell them all we've done, but if we could destroy another Horcrux first, before I see them..." Harry's voiced tailed off, how could he tell the others he wanted to see Godric's Hollow alone, without offending them? The teenagers sat in silence for a few minutes, before Harry headed off to bed.

He was prepared for another restless night. He had not been sleeping well since the attacks. Every time he drifted off, he had the same recurring nightmare. One which made him relive the moment he became a murderer, as he repeatedly saw the unknown Death Eater fall, rigid from his broom to his death. Tonight, it was worse; he was even having difficulty getting to sleep at all. He was worried about the ruthless streak that Hermione had shown when she had destroyed the Horcrux. Without an apparent care she had effortlessly cast the darkest of all spells.

Harry remembered the fake Moody telling the class that they could all cast the killing curse on him and he wouldn't so much as get a nose-bleed. He also recalled Bellatrix laughing in the face of his pathetic Cruciatus Curse and telling him he had to, "really want to cause pain – to enjoy it – righteous anger won't hurt me." So how much hate had Hermione got boiled up inside her to be able to cast the killing curse?

Harry resolved to speak to Ron about his concerns in the morning and finally drifted off into an uneasy sleep with images of the Dursley's and Draco Malfoy, all accusing him of their murders filling his mind. As a result of his restless night, Harry was first in the kitchen in the morning, and set the frying pan up on the stove. He smiled ruefully to himself, as the bacon rashers started to sizzle. Was this only useful thing to come from the Dursleys? Harry grabbed a handful of cutlery and moved into the living room to lay the table, stopping short, as he found Neville curled up by the pensieve sobbing.

"Oh Neville, it doesn't do to dwell on the past. Come on, breakfast is nearly cooked."

Neville didn't move, so Harry moved over and patted his arm. "Did you see something that upset you?" Harry paused but there was no answer so he continued. "I saw my father in Snape's pensieve two years ago, it wasn't a good memory. He launched an unprovoked attack on Snape, which at the time really shocked me. But we've all done things we're not proud of. We've all got those bad memories hidden away, we're only human."

"Noth..hhing like that Harry, look," wailed Neville as he grabbed Harry and plunged them both headlong inside the pensieve again.

A Formica decorated kitchen swam into focus this time, as Harry and Neville landed in the memory. Harry could see baby Neville crawling at full speed across the lino-covered floor. He thought to himself, that maybe Ron was right about Neville's determination.

Just then a loud high-pitched voice called out "_Crucio_!" This was followed by screaming and a cruel, psychotic laugh. Harry sheepishly put away the wand he had instinctively drawn and crawled out from behind the fridge, where he had taken cover, berating himself that it was only a memory. He looked over at Neville, who despite crying openly, was following his baby-self towards the source of the noise.

The sitting room looked much like it had in Neville's previous memory, although there was no parchment scattered around this time. Instead, Neville's Father was bound on the sofa with ropes and what looked like a _Petrificus Totalus_ charm. Barty Crouch Junior and Rudolphus LeStrange stood a few feet away, both pointing their wands at Frank Longbottom. Bellatrix LeStrange stood on the other side of her husband, manically laughing as she held the unforgivable curse on Neville's mother, who was writhing in agony on the thick orange carpet.

Bellatrix lifted the curse on Alice at the same time her husband released the freezing charm on Frank. She turned to Neville's father and demanded, "Now tell me where it is?"

"I don't know what you're talking about?"

"The Dark Lord's Horcrux. The one you and Regulus stole from me," screeched Bellatrix in a rage.

"What? I don't know. What's a Horcrux?" finished Frank unconvincingly.

"_Crucio_", screamed Bellatrix angrily, this time focusing her wand on Frank. Still holding the unforgivable curse, she turned to Neville's mum, who had vomited on the floor, and was now struggling to get up.

"Listen to me. The Dark Lord created several Horcruxes and left them hidden or with his most trusted of followers. But you already know this, as that Muggle-loving fool, Albus Dumbledore has asked you to find them." As she raged on, Bellatrix continued to hold the Cruciatus Curse steady on Frank.

"Before I killed him, I persuaded Regulus to tell me all about the Horcrux he stole from me. I know he brought it to you. For the last time; where is it?" Alice remained silent, as Bellatrix flew into a rage. She lifted the curse off Frank, who was by now unconscious and, returned it on Alice.

"I think you've killed him, he's not moving." commented Rudolphus.

"No matter, if they're dead, they can't tell Dumble... My-my, what have we here?" Bellatrix stopped the curse and moved her wand towards baby Neville who had crawled over to his mother. She smiled as she raised her wand, pointing it at Neville. "Did the ickle bitty baby want to be with his mummy, then? I think we can arrange that, _Crucio._" The room went dark, and Harry and Neville were flung out of the memory.

As Harry slowly regained his breath and composure, the first thing he heard was Ron swearing and trying to put out some large flames which were coming out of the kitchen. Neville was curled up once again rocking himself on the mat, just as he started to move awkwardly over to comfort Neville, Hermione appeared, and rushed over to cuddle him.

"What happened?" she asked Harry pointedly.

"He bloody burned my breakfast that what happened. How could you Harry, it was prime British bacon?" Ron threw a charred rasher at Harry from the kitchen earning himself a black look from Hermione as she hugged Neville.

Neville was inconsolable, and nothing Hermione or the others tried seemed to work. Eventually, desperate to make up for his earlier bout of insensitivity, Ron flooed to the Burrow and returned with Luna, and to Harry's delight, Ginny. This delight was short-lived, because as he leaned in to give her a welcoming kiss, his face was instead met by her palm. SLAP!

"What is the meaning of this?" Ginny brandished a copy of the Daily Prophet, open at page 9, where a rather defaced Hermione was pinching him. She then turned to page 3 and started reading "You can tell your readers I'm single, eh? Too bloody right you're single." With that Ginny turned on Hermione brandishing her wand. "You … you … scarlet woman. You were supposed to be my friend."

There was a flash, followed by a shriek as Hermione ran from the room clutching her nose, closely followed by Ron. This left a rather shell-shocked Harry to try and calm down Ginny and explain Hermione's plan to her, while avoiding getting hexed. Fortunately for Harry, Mrs Weasley chose this moment to appear, under the pretence of cleaning the house, yet again. "Tut-tut what a state, how can you live like this?"

As the Weasley matriarch began dusting the furniture in the hallway, Luna guided Neville onto a comfy looking couch in the Library, and started reading The Quibbler to him. Now that they were alone, Harry risked a glance at Ginny, but she was still staring daggers at him; clearly he was not forgiven yet. As he racked his brain for something to say, Ron and Hermione returned. Ron glared furiously at his sister as he tried to cast 'Episkey' on Hermione's damaged nose, which was still periodically emitting small bat-winged bogies. Seeing he had to do something, Harry took a deep breath and started grovelling. Eventually he had just about been reinstated as Ginny's boyfriend. At least, he mused, she was back talking to him, or more accurately lecturing him tirelessly for ignoring her, and leaving her at home while he buggered off and played the hero.

Harry noticed Ron sidle off towards the kitchen, stomach grumbling, and he envied Ron, as Ginny built up a head of steam, "You couldn't even be bothered to floo over and see me, not even ONE owl," she finished, red face and hair glinting dangerously.

Harry tried once again to pacify her by relaying the events of the last few days, and as the others gathered around, he explained what he had seen in the pensieve. After Harry had relayed the details of the Longbottom's torture, Hermione was full of questions "Did Neville's parents know about any other Horcruxes? How did they know Regulus Black? You're sure they said Regulus, Harry?"

"Yes Bellatrix said the one you and Regulus stole from me."

"Harry, when Mrs Black saw Neville she screamed at him LONGBOTTOM, I never thought I'd live to see a Longbottom in this house after Regu..." remembered Ginny.

"But," continued Ginny thoughtfully, "Regulus used Kreacher to steal the locket, not Frank Longbottom. And, it was in that horrid cave, so how could Bellatrix claim it had been stolen from her?"

"So, if Regulus was working with the Longbottom's, why leave a note taunting Voldemort? They and Dumbledore would have protected him surely?" queried Hermione, "Also what about the bit about leaving Horcruxes with trusted followers. All the ones we've found so far, except the Diary, have been hidden." Hermione broke off as Mrs Weasley bustled through with her duster yet again.

"I think we should postpone today's planned trip," suggested Harry changing the subject, as Ron reappeared with some freshly fried bacon and eggs.

"We've got some thinking to do before we can start anyway, I suggest we go to the Library today and get some research done."

"Hermione, we going to search an old derelict building, what good can a Muggle library be?" spluttered Ron, his mouth full.

"Ron, we need to able to find the building first before we can search it. In case you've forgotten, it is hidden by the fidelius charm. But, I happen to think that the library will hold the key to breaking that. Anyway, I wasn't going to take you, after your disgraceful behaviour in that supermarket last week."

In the end, Hermione, Ginny and Harry left to go to the library, leaving a disgruntled Ron to keep an eye on his mother, and help with the housework. Unfortunately for Ron, Hermione heard his parting comment about working like a house-elf.

Harry and Ginny looked questioningly at each other, as Hermione dragged them over to the map section of the library. After a few minutes ferreting around on the shelves, she pulled out a 1950's map of London. Still none the wiser, Harry leaned over the map, which Hermione was now scouring. He followed her gaze, and saw, quite clearly, St Mary's Orphanage. It was a large building at the end of Friar's Walk. Hermione then pulled out a new Ordnance Survey map, which showed an empty space at the end of Friars Walk. Next, she showed Harry and Ginny 'Google Earth' on one of the library computers. Again, there was nothing; just a space.

"So it's been demolished?" asked Harry, after struggling for twenty minutes to explain to Ginny the concept of computers and the internet.

"And left as wasteland, in the middle of a prime development area in London? Now if we look here at Grimmauld Place," Hermione zoomed in on the new area. "We have another blank space; and it's the same with Hogwarts" Hermione entered some new figures into the computer.

"Wow, so this means that Muggles can find buildings under the fidelius charm?"

Hermione nodded, "The charm causes wizards to forget about secrets, and magical texts are erased. But, it doesn't erase muggle documents.

"Don't muggles ever get suspicious of these blank spaces on their maps?" Ginny asked, struggling to catch up with the conversation.

Hermione smiled for the first time in ages, "No, they think they are secret government military bases?"

"So we just take this," said Harry, picking up the Ordnance Survey map, "and walk right into the Orphanage.

"Not exactly, we still won't see the building because the secret keeper hasn't shown it to us, and being Voldemort isn't likely to."

"Damn, despite all this, we still won't be able to find it," complained Harry throwing the map down in frustration.

"Don't you ever read any of our text books?" demanded Hermione picking up the map carefully. "If you had looked at the invisible book of invisibility …"

Harry caught Ginny's eye, as she suppressed a giggle behind the palm of her hand.

"… The fidelius charm has two constituent parts. Firstly, awareness of the secret within the wizarding world is erased. This knowledge is controlled by the secret keeper, and is only re-instated upon the keeper's death, or by Ordnance Survey maps," finished Hermione with a smile, as she assumed that Harry and Ginny were laughing at her joke

"Secondly, the secret is made invisible, by a complex combination of invisibility and confundus charms. This part of the fidelius charm is controlled by the pass phrase used during casting. The importance of selecting an appropriate phrase is often overlooked, too simple a phrase can lead to accidental revelation of the secret.

Indeed, Holruck the Hapless, swore when he accidentally dropped his wand, while casting the charm on his treasure chest. When he later emitted the same expletive after his butterbeer was spilled during a party, all the guests became aware of his secret and stole his gold …"

Noticing that Harry's eyes had glazed over, Ginny interrupted Hermione's monologue, "So, you're saying that if we can guess the exact phrase Voldemort used when he performed the charm it should work."

Hermione nodded and Harry swore loudly in frustration.

Ginny giggled, "I doubt that's it! But we could try."

An hour later, the three of them were talking to a wall at the end of Friars Walk. "Are you sure this will break the charm, I feel ridiculous," complained Harry.

"It should, for example Remus can say twelve Grimmauld Place in conversation and nobody is any the wiser. He has to use the exact phrase, Harry Potter lives at number twelve Grimmauld Place, to allow anyone in. That's why it always worked when other members of the order handed out Professor Dumbledore's hand written slips of parchment when he was secret keeper. Although, I think writing down the secret phrase was foolhardy in the extreme."

Harry tried again, "Lord Voldemort lived in an orphanage ... Tom Riddles Horcrux is at St Mary's ... The Dark Lord is a half-blood orphan." Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry after this last effort.

"Lord Voldemorts soul was left in an orphanage." As Ginny uttered these last words, a pair of wrought iron gates appeared then gradually a square two story brick building slid into view. It was very dilapidated and looked on the point of collapse, but here was no mistaking that it was the building he had seen in Dumbledore's memory last year. Harry turned and pulled Ginny into a kiss in celebration, before releasing her and hugging Hermione, awkwardly.

"It's late, I think we'd better come back tomorrow," Harry advised.

"Translation, you don't want me to go inside." pouted Ginny.

"No, although I did promise your mother you would be back by five, it's because I want to review the memory Dumbledore showed me of this place again, before we go in. I don't doubt your bravery, or skill, it's just this is dangerous and we need to be as prepared as possible."

Harry caught Hermione's approving glance, as he congratulated himself on avoiding another argument with his girlfriend, as they returned to Grimmauld Place. Once back inside number twelve, Mrs Weasley made an impassioned plea to Ron to come home.

While Ron was arguing with his mother, Neville pulled Harry away, "Sorry about this morning, It all sort of came to a head. Would you mind if I went with Luna and stayed with Mrs Weasley for a day or so? Just until I can get back on my feet, Luna helped me so much this morning."

Harry nodded, wanting to put a stop to his embarrassment, "Of course Neville, take as long as you want. Don't worry you will always be welcome here."

In the end, it was a simmering trio that was left in Grimmauld Place. Harry had argued with Ginny again before she left, this time about not allowing her to accompany them to the Orphanage the following day. Ron had fought with his mother about staying and Hermione had got caught in between. So, to try and allow Ron and Hermione the chance to patch things up, Harry headed upstairs for an early night.

He lay in bed for quite a while, mulling things over in his mind, unable to get to sleep. Despite all the heartache, it had been a very successful couple of days. They had destroyed one Horcrux and were on the verge of locating another. Harry thanked his lucky stars that Ron and Hermione had insisted on coming with him. They were proving invaluable, although Harry was still worried about the apparent ruthless streak that Hermione appeared to be developing. He hoped that Ron would help her return to some semblance of normality. Having lost both her parents, what Hermoine needed most of all now was for Ron to be strong, dependent and loving.

When he was alone at the Dursley's, Harry had worried what things would be like when Ron and Hermione finally admitted their feelings for each other. Would he be left out? Would he feel like a gooseberry? But none of this had happened and he found himself truly happy for his friends, and instead, focusing on his own future. A future, that he very much hoped, if he could patch up this latest argument, would involve a certain fiery red-haired Weasley. A future, that for the first-time in his life, looked like it just might be obtainable. With this last thought in his mind Harry drifted off into a peaceful, nightmare free sleep.

The following morning, after another visit into the pensieve, the trio found themselves in Friars Walk staring at the derelict orphanage. As planned, they carefully entered the building, its rusted gates and rotten wooden front door proved no match for Harry's '_Alohomora_'.

Carefully, but quickly they made their way along the tiled corridors. Bits of plaster and tiles had fallen off here and there and mildew and damp-rot added to the general air of despair that hung over the building. They passed Mrs Cole's old office and climbed the stone stairs, taking great pains to ensure they were safe first. The upper story, the trio soon discovered, had a wooden floor, which in places was starting to rot, aided by large holes in the ceiling. An elderberry tree was pushing its way up from the ground floor all the way through the roof, at one point.

Progress along this floor was painfully slow and careful as a result. But, eventually they made it towards the room Harry knew that Voldemort, had grown up in. He couldn't help but compare the building to those he had seen in gritty prison programmes on the Dursley's television. It wasn't a very favourable comparison, and Harry now understood some of the feelings that young Tom Riddle must have had living here. Some very, very similar feelings he, himself had had, living in the cupboard under the bedroom stairs. It was very fine line between good and evil.

"Here it is," Ron announced, standing by the open, heavy metal door. "Like Azkaban ain't it?"

The panes of glass originally in the barred window had fallen out, or been smashed some years earlier, allowing the elements to batter the room. Tom Riddles iron bed still stood in the corner, along with the remains of a rotten mattress. The cheap wooden, fitted wardrobe was starting to fall to pieces in the other corner.

Ron surprised everyone by casting around for a magical presence, much as Professor Dumbledore had done in the cave. Harry could see that Hermione was impressed with the spell.

"What?" he asked accusingly, at their astounded looks, "Did you think I wouldn't learn anything from Bill all summer?" Hermione shifted her feet uncomfortably, as Ron finished his spell, "There is no complex magic in here," he concluded confidently. "Just a very faint presence, maybe a relic of some long-cast accidental magic, or Tom Riddle practising his first year transfiguration homework. Certainly nothing that would hide a Horcrux."

Out of frustration, Ron blasted the wardrobe open, but it was bare. For good measure he cast Incendio on it, reducing it to a pile of ash, but still no Horcrux appeared. Harry tried the same on the mattress, but apart from creating a pungent smelling, smouldering heap nothing happened.

"I guess its not here then," commented Ron.

"How about, if it wasn't magically hidden?" asked Harry slowly, "The fidelius should have protected it from all but the best of wizards. What if Voldemort had hidden it like a Muggle child would have hidden it, to avoid leaving a magical signature?"

Ron looked confused. "Exactly Ron; Pure-blood wizards wouldn't know the mind-set of an unwanted Muggle orphan, whereas, I would." At this Harry began examining the floor boards, looking for the one with a loose nail, and didn't see the look of abject horror that Ron exchanged with Hermione.

A few minutes later, Harry ripped up a loose board uncovering a small hiding place, which contained the small goblet he had seen in Hokey's memory and a colourful looking snake. He stood up for a second, to allow the others to look. The snake appeared to be soundly asleep, and it was a fair distance from the goblet, could he just grab it? No, surely it couldn't be that simple, it had to be a trap.

Evidently Ron was thinking the same thing, as he reached out to pick the goblet up. "No, Ron!" warned Hermione, but it was too late, Ron's hand had already closed around the goblet.

Ron shouted in agony, as the goblet appeared to bite him. Harry double checked; the snake appeared to be peacefully asleep, still a foot away from the goblet. How could Ron have been bitten? His thoughts were interrupted as Ron screamed in agony again. He was holding his hand, which had now started to swell, the tell-tale two-pronged sign of a snake-bite evident. Ron screaming became weaker and he collapsed.

"Harry, do something!" screamed a hysterical Hermione, tears streaming down her cheeks.

An anti-dote was out of the question, what he could do with now, was one of the bezoars out of Slughorn's storage cupboard. If only he could apparate directly into Hogwarts. But the wards made this impossible, so he would have to go to Hogsmeade and try and find a way to floo into the school, or get help from there. Harry quickly grabbed Ron and, shouting his destination to Hermione, side-apparated into Hogsmeade, re-appearing outside the Hogshead.

Harry raised his wand again, thought about Ginny, and cast his patronus. 'Prongs' galloped off towards Hogwarts, hopefully Hagrid or McGonagall would pick up the message and come and help, and quickly too. As Harry hoisted Ron onto his shoulder, preparing to run towards the school, he found that he could no longer feel his friend's heartbeat.


	9. The Missing Horcrux

**Chapter 9 – The Missing Horcrux**

Harry turned sharply and collided with Aberforth, who had come rushing out of his pub. The elderly barman took one look at Ron, and pulled his limp body from Harry onto his own shoulders before he disappeared back inside his pub with an agility that defied his advancing years. Harry was about to protest, but before he could open his mouth, Aberforth had shut the door. As he turned to follow, he heard Hermione apparate across the street with a little pop. Harry beckoned to her and ran in to the Hogs Head, in time to see Aberforth heading out the back into the stable. Harry ran through the pub, flattening an old witch who was stood at the bar, in a desperate bid to try and catch up. As he entered the stable door, he was in time to see a streak of blue light come from Aberforth's wand and hit Molly, the goat, directly in the belly. Harry stopped and stared in shock, firstly at the eccentric barman, who was apparently attacking one of his precious pets, and secondly at Ron, who Aberforth had apparently just dropped in the doorway. As Harry stood open-mouthed, the barman triumphantly pulled a bezoar from the torn stomach of his prized goat and immediately shoved it down Ron's throat. Aberforth then turned away calmly and cast a healing charm on his pet.

Time seemed to slow again, as Harry stood in shock, not knowing what to do. He felt Hermione brush past him and saw her kneel next to Ron. She checked frantically for a heartbeat, and although she didn't say anything, her weak sob and desperate look told Harry all he needed to know. This couldn't be happening, not Ron. Harry tried frantically to think of something which would help, before he noticed that Hermione had pulled Ron's head back and clamped her mouth over his.

The stable-door banged open once again as Hagrid, Professor McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey ran through. Madame Pomfrey quickly rushed over to Ron, pushing Hermione away. The healer quickly cast a diagnostic spell over Ron, paused for a few seconds before she stood, slowly shaking her head. Harry didn't need to see the expression on her face to know that Ron was dead.

Hermione screamed and fell onto Ron, once more covering his lips with hers and holding his nose. She gave him two more quick breaths, before she started to press up and down on his chest. Slowly, Harry recognised Hermione's actions as artificial respiration. He'd seen it performed on television, but the wizards and witches in the room looked on in complete amazement. If it hadn't been for the young witch's look of hysterical determination, they may have tried to have stopped her. That is until Ron gave a weak cough.

Hagrid levitated Ron to the Hogwarts hospital wing, with Hermione insisting on holding his hand all the way. Even Madame Pomfrey didn't dare try and stop her, although she did refuse to allow Harry to follow. This was how Harry found himself drinking a glass of firewhiskey in the Hogshead, with Aberforth and Professor Lupin, who had by now appeared. Harry was very vague in his descriptions of how Ron had come to be poisoned by such a dark object. He quickly changed the subject when Professor Lupin asked; instead praising Aberforth for his quick reactions and saying he hoped Molly would be okay.

Aberforth nodded, "She'll be fine, I did the same to her great-grandmother to save Albus a few years ago and it didn't hurt her. Mind you, some bloody Ministry toad by the name of Umbridge saw it, and prosecuted me for 'casting an in-appropriate charm on a goat.' Made me out to be some kind of pervert in the paper, she did."

An elderly hag had strolled in, and was now propping herself up against the bar, so Aberforth had to leave to serve her. This allowed Lupin to return to issue of Ron's poisoning.

"Harry, just what is going on? I know you and Albus were up to something last year. Those private lessons were just a sham. What were you two doing the night he died? I know you weren't at Hogwarts when the attack started."

When Harry didn't reply he continued, "I'm assuming that you are continuing whatever it is with Hermione and Ron." Harry nodded awkwardly as his former teacher kept fishing for information.

"I'll support anything which will lead to Voldemort's defeat. That's why I've moved out of Grimmauld Place, to allow you some space. I even understand why you can't trust the Order. But I can not stand idly by anymore, now one of you has nearly died. For Merlin's sake, Harry, I promised your father I would look after you. Please tell me and let me help you."

As he listened to the heartfelt plea of his parent's best friend, Harry found he could no longer look Remus in the face. He shifted his gaze awkwardly down to the floor, as he prepared to break his former teacher's heart. "I'm afraid I just can't tell you yet. It is vital that no-one knows until we are ready." Even though Harry went on to re-assure his former Professor that he trusted him, Harry could see that Remus was crestfallen. Harry hated himself for doing this to a man that had suffered the heartbreak of seeing his own best friends killed because they put their trust in the wrong person. But Harry knew that if he told Remus, he would insist on the Order being told; or at the very least that Mad-Eye Moody be brought in to destroy the Horcruxes. If this happened it wouldn't be long before Kingsley knew, then the Order and eventually, somehow Voldemort would find out.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the table as they waited for Aberforth to return. The frosty atmosphere didn't improve and several awkward drinks later, Harry made his way back to the school where he was finally allowed in to see Ron, who was sleeping peacefully. Madame Pomfrey said the Bezoar had stopped the spread of the poison and was slowly dissipating it. She reassured him that Ron should make a full recovery, before shooing him and Hermione out of the infirmary.

A very subdued Harry cooked Hermione breakfast the following morning at number twelve. "You'll be glad to know that there is nothing about Ron in the Prophet, so at least we managed to keep that secret," she commented folding the Daily Prophet away. "Are you ready to go?"

"Now? Madame Pomfrey said we couldn't see him until the afternoon."

"Not to see Ron; to finish what we started yesterday and get the Horcrux." Harry stared, opened mouthed as she continued. "All we need to do is cast the killing curse at it, we don't actually need to pick it up."

Three hours later they were once again stood, wands drawn, in Tom Riddle's former bedroom, staring down at the Horcrux. "On the count of three; Ready," asked Hermione.

Harry nodded weakly and gripped hold of his wand tightly as she started to count, "One … Two … Three … _Avada Kedavra_."

Two green streaks flew towards the ancient cup, hitting its shiny surface and disappearing. Nothing else happened, no scream, no dust, no Horcrux. Harry turned and swore in frustration. How could it not be a part of Voldemort's soul? It was a priceless relic, hidden in a significant place to him. It was well protected; even the irony of the words chosen for the fidelius charm pointed to a Horcrux being hidden in the Orphanage. The cup was exactly what they were looking for, except it didn't contain any soul.

He looked back and saw Hermione was frowning in concentration as she kneeled over the hiding place. As he watched, a look of comprehension spread over her face, and she stretched out her hand.

"No don't touch it," Harry yelled out.

She turned and gave him her, 'Do you think I'm daft' look before beckoning him closer. As Harry leaned in, she raised her wand pointing it at the Horcrux. _"Finite Incantum!" _

The Horcrux shimmered and slowly changed shape, settling into the form of another multi-coloured snake. The only difference being that this one was dead, having been killed by their earlier curses. Harry looked at the other snake to compare it, and found it had instead changed into Hufflepuff's cup.

"A simple switching transfiguration, how clever," Hermione said in an admiring tone that was reminiscent of Dumbledore. "Now again, on three …" This time the cup split open with a blood-curdling scream as another Horcrux was destroyed. Hermione clinically banished the broken relic back to Grimmauld Place and in a business-like manner announced that it was time to visit Ron.

Harry had mixed emotions following the destruction of the fourth Horcrux. He was elated that they were now one step closer to their goal, but at what cost? He knew he was being stupid and that in this war it was inevitable that he would have to kill people. But knowing it and doing it were two totally different things. There was no getting away from the fact that he was now capable of casting the most evil spell of all.

He looked across the kitchen table at Grimmauld Place towards Hermione who was also deep in thought. She looked quite haggered and Harry suspected she was probably worrying about Ron. He tried to reassure her, "Don't worry Hermione, he'll be fine. Madame Pomfrey says he will make a full recovery." They had just been to visit Ron who, while still out cold from a dreamless sleep potion, had looked much better.

"It's not Ron. I was thinking about Neville's parents. It's a long shot, and I mean, if they don't know Neville they are hardly likely to recognise it. It would be cruel but ..."

"Hermione!" interrupted Harry exasperatedly, "Stop babbling and explain."

"Oh sorry, I was thinking that as Neville's parents were obviously looking for the Horcruxes, we could go and show them the one's we've got. If there is anything alive in their minds, it might get a reaction."

Harry looked sceptical, but Hermione continued, "It's a million-to-one shot, and if they do recognise them, then their reaction is likely to make them very agitated. I don't know whether we can ask Neville to let us do something like this."

"I can't say I like it, but it's got to be worth a try" said Neville stepping into the room.

"Neville! sorry, we errr ..."

"Its ok, I heard from Mrs Weasley that Ron had suffered a really serious mysterious bite. She's beside herself with worry; grilled poor Ginny about what you lot were up to for hours. So I had to come back, in case I let something slip by accident. I'm not very good at keeping secrets from someone that formidable. Anyway, with Ron in the hospital wing for a while, I figured you could use an extra pair of hands." Neville finished off taking a big breath.

Harry showed Neville Hufflepuff's cup and explained how they had found it, how Ron had been bitten and how Aberforth and Hermione had saved his life.

"So you think if you show my parents the cup and locket, it may break the effects of that evil curse?" Neville surmised quietly, as Hermione nodded.

"I don't think there is any real hope, the healers have tried everything. Their tests indicate the brain-damage is permanent and quite irreversible. But I like to believe there is a chance, it helps me get through it all. So I'm willing to try anything," said Neville gathering his cloak.

The Janus Thickey ward at the top of St Mungo's was much fuller than the last-time they had visited. Beds were crammed in here, there and everywhere, no doubt a legacy of the ever-increasing Death Eater attacks. Neville quickly guided them around Gilderoy Lockheart, who showing a healer a fan letter from Gladys Gudgeon, and down towards the end of the ward where his parents beds were. Alice Longbottom was standing beside her bed, aimlessly staring at a mirror, while combing her hair. Neville walked up and tapped her on the shoulder.

"Mum, these are my friends Harry Potter and Hermione Granger."

Mrs Longbottom turned and looked through Neville without a flicker of recognition. This caused Hermione to gasp and grab hold of Neville's hand.

"Mum, I've brought you something." Hermione squeezed tighter as Neville reached under his cloak and passed the locket to his mother. Mrs Longbottom gazed absentmindedly at the broken locket, before putting it down on her bedside table and picking up her hairbrush again. Slowly she turned to look into the mirror once more.

Undeterred, Neville turned to his father's bed, Frank Longbottom was sitting up gazing at a wizarding wireless on his table.

"Dad," tried Neville shaking his father gently, his voice cracking as he tried to introduce Harry and Hermione again. "I've brought you a ..." Neville thrust the cup into his father's hands.

Frank let the cup slide through his hands and it clattered on the floor. He pulled himself out of his bed, putting his hands up to cover his ears and began shouting in pain. Alice turned to look at her husband at this point, and picked up the locket, which she held out to him. Frank knocked it from her grasp with an almighty swipe of his hand causing the cup to fly into the whitewashed corridor wall opposite. Harry quickly picked the locket up and summoned the cup, as Hermione kept a devastated looking Neville in a tight hold.

Alerted by the continual screaming healers came running down the corridor and managed to stun Frank Longbottom before lifting him back into his bed, "What happened?" asked one breathlessly "We've never got a reaction from Frank before. W did you do?"

"I don't know, Neville brought me and Harry to visit. Maybe he recognised Harry or something," replied Hermione quickly just as Neville was about to try and speak.

"But, you must have done something, what did you say to him?"

Again Hermione cut Neville off before he could get any words out, "Nothing, except Hello. Look Neville is really distressed by this. I need to get him home. It was such a shock. We'll come back tomorrow." With that Hermione determinedly shepherded Neville and Harry back to Grimmauld Place.

"Hermione, we need to tell them about the Horcruxes, they may be able to do something. We don't need to let them know they are Horcruxes, just show them the cup."

"Neville, please forgive me for dragging you out of the hospital. I can't begin to imagine what it must feel like to know something that might help your parents, but we must not tell anyone. This has to remain a secret until we have destroyed them all. Imagine what would happen if Voldemort saw a headline like, "Historic relic restores new life to spell-damaged man." in the Daily Prophet, along with a photo of one of his Horcruxes.

"But it ..."

"The healers had given up before today. This will make them at least try again, Neville. Once it is all over, you can tell them everything."

It took a while, but Neville eventually calmed down enough to see reason and agree. "So what do we know about this last Horcrux?" he asked with a renewed determination.

"Nothing yet, but I need another favour from you, which I think will help." Neville looked worried, as Hermione explained how they had used the pensieve to review the details of the orphanage to help them find Voldemort's room quickly.

"I want to see your memory again, that night you were crawling all over your Dad's work. I think he may have been working on the Horcruxes then." Neville started to quiver, but Hermione pressed on. "I've looked at my recollection of the memory, but it's not detailed enough. I think you sat down on a map of some kind. You also appear to have looked directly at some of the sheets of parchment, which could just help us. You don't need to look at the memory, just put it in the pensieve for us"

Neville gulped audibly, looked at Harry, before his resolve hardened, "You've been through far worse, Harry. I wish I could be as brave as you, but it is so difficult." As he finished speaking he moved over to the pensieve and withdrew a silvery strand of memory from his head.

Hermione and Harry delved once again inside Neville's memory. The large piece of parchment was indeed a map, but was so indistinct they could not make anything useful out from it. Baby Neville had not been interested in the markings on the map, and as such they had not been reflected in the memory. The two kept on persevering though, and finally, as the baby sat on the sofa, he grabbed a couple of sheets of parchment and stared straight at them.

Harry heard Hermione gasp, and he glanced at one sheet, it was headed up

_Tom Riddle's known Horcruxes. _

_1) Slytherin's necklace; Regulus thought it was hidden in a cave somewhere on the South Coast. It is rumoured to be guarded by an army of Inferi. Regulus was tracking reported Inferi attacks to try and pinpoint the cave when he died. _

So that's how Dumbledore knew where the cave was, thought Harry. The Inferi attacks only started again about a year ago, so that's why he didn't try and find the necklace earlier.

_2) Gaunt's Ring; Albus has discovered it hidden in the walls of the Gaunt house. Unfortunately it's well protected. He is working on a way to get around the traps without being injured. _

Harry winced at the memory of Dumbledore's withered hand. If the greatest wizard of all time could not safely obtain a Horcrux, after at least fifteen years of planning, then what hope did he have with the others? Harry quickly glanced back at the parchment before he became too depressed.

_3) Hufflepuff's Cup; Almost Certainly in Riddle's old orphanage, protected by the fidelius charm so no-one else can get in. Before she died, Lily was working on breaking the charm. _

Harry stopped reading in shock at the revelation that his mother had been involved directly in the hunt for Voldemort's Horcruxes. It suddenly started to make sense; the prophecy had said that the Potter's and Longbottom's had thrice defied Voldemort. Harry had always assumed that they were targeted because they were Order members, but what if Voldemort had found out that they were after his Horcruxes?

Harry felt some of his guilt about keeping the Horcrux hunt secret from Professor Lupin lift. He also felt his determination to finish the quest strengthen; now he was armed with the knowledge that he was continuing his parents work. After all hadn't he already got further than Dumbledore had? Perhaps …

Harry's train of thought was interrupted by a gasp from Hermione. As he looked up, he saw her impatiently pointing at the last paragraph on the parchment.

_4) Merlin's Staff; Entrusted to Bellatrix LeStrange, who passed it to Mrs Black when Albus instigated a Ministry search of her possessions. Regulus inherited it following the death of Mrs Black and secured it in the family vault. He was reluctant to destroy it in case it alerted Riddle to our quest. The Staff remains in Black family vault at Gringott's, as its current owner, Sirius Black, is in Azkaban. _

"Merlin's Staff," breathed Hermione awestruck. "The most fabled relic known to the wizarding world, believed lost in 1743 during the height of the third goblin rebellion. But how did HE get it?" finished Hermione shaking in outrage. Smiling to himself, Harry turned to the second sheet of parchment.

_5) Something entrusted to Narcissa Malfoy; believed to still be at Malfoy Manor. Despite instigating repeated Ministry searches, Albus has not located the Horcrux. It's probably a relic of Ravenclaw's, as Riddle seems obsessed with collecting artifacts from famous Witches and Wizards._

This was wrong, thought Harry. Riddle's diary was entrusted to the Malfoy's, and that's obviously been destroyed. But if the Longbottom's, Dumbledore and Hermione all couldn't find a relic of Ravenclaw's, then, presumably, nor could Voldemort. Satisfied, Harry continued reading.

_6) Gryffindor's sword; Riddle intended to use James and Lily Potters child to make this Horcrux. He expected James to summon sword to fight against him. Albus alerted James to this possibility, so the sword remained in the Headmaster's Office. The killing curse rebounded off little Harry onto Riddle, so this Horcrux was never made. _

_Don't know how many Horcruxes Riddle made in total? There are five known before he was expelled from his body while trying to make the last one. Albus suspects his aim was to make six (seven divisions) in total. _

Harry and Hermione exchanged a jubilant look as the memory faded and they returned to Grimmuald Place. Eagerly they told Neville all they seen. "It can't be that easy can it?" he asked.

"I don't know, but first thing tomorrow, we'll all go and check the vault out," replied Harry.

The goblin on duty was reluctant to allow anyone, let alone the three of them to travel down to see the Black family vault. "Mr Potter, the contents of the Black family vault have not been catalogued and checked for curses and traps. I must recommend that you do not go down there yet. Allow me, instead to fill your money bags with gold from the Potter vault."

"No, I insist," argued Harry. "The vault's contents belong to me and I should be allowed to see or remove any or all of it!"

The goblin gulped at the thinly hidden threat and hurried off to fetch someone. Griphook arrived several seconds later and beckoned that they follow him to one of the carts which led down to the ancient family vaults. Once they got to the vault, Harry was amazed to see it was a hive of activity.

"Cataloguing is in progress," explained Griphook.

"Harry!" On hearing his name, Harry looked into the vault to see Bill Weasley appearing, "Thank you for arranging for me to get this job. It's been one of the most challenging one's I've had in years."

"No problem, Bill. But I thought you were on honeymoon."

"No, we came back early, I'd had long enough off work with the injury. Then everywhere we went was so bloody depressing, at least down here there is hope! The final straw came when mum owled in a panic, saying that Ron was badly injured, so we rushed back."

"Sorry," stumbled Harry.

"Yes, you should be. We'll have a word about that in a minute, but first come and have a look at what I've discovered in your vault."

The three got out of the cart and headed towards the door. "No!" yelled Bill, "Only Harry, you have to be a pure-blood Black, Gringott's employee or the legal owner of the vault in order to get inside."

Hrrmione and Neville froze, as Harry took a deep breath and stepped over the snake engraved doorway. Bill led the way into a massive vault, which stretched back as far as Harry could see. Nearly all the vault was filled with mountains of sparkling, golden galleon coins. Bill squeezed past the pile, and Harry followed. As they inched deeper in, they passed numerous boxes of jewellery and silverware.

"Those have all be examined, catalogued and declared safe," explained Bill. "It was fairly straightforward until we got right to the back." Bill then proceeded to explain about a number of jinxes, curses and hexes that had been encountered at the rear of the vault. Harry had never heard of many of them, but some of the names left little to the imagination, in terms of their gruesome effects.

"I've not seen anything like this, since we explored the passages under Pharaoh Thutmose III tomb in Egypt. Someone went to a lot of trouble to make this impenetrable." Bills eyes glinted, "and when that happens, it usually means we're going to find something really worthwhile. Let me tell you this, Harry, we were not disappointed. We've made the most important discovery since … well forever. You'll never guess what we found?"

"Merlin's staff?" asked Harry hopefully.

Bill's face was a picture, "How on earth, did you know? We need to have a long chat, Harry."

"Ok, but can I see it first?"

"See yes, touch No. We haven't finished checking it yet, it's giving off some odd magic. We think it may be cursed."

Bill showed him to a cleared space in the back corner of the vault, where there lay an innocuous looking wooden staff, with a phoenix design carved into the handle.

"It looks so ordinary, are you sure Bill?"

"Yes, Gringott's most learned experts have examined it, we are certain of its authenticity."

Harry looked at the staff again, and then looked back at the doorway. Hermione couldn't come in here, he would have to do it all on his own. Slowly he raised his wand and pointed it at the staff.

"Harry, what are you doing?" asked Bill in shock.

"_Avada Kadavra_."

"No, Harry that's a priceless irreplaceable relic," screamed Bill as the staff split in half. He rounded on Harry, wand drawn but was distracted by a doleful scream that came from the staff, and turned back in time to see a black mist rising from it. For a second Bill stood in shock, then he pointed at the other Gringott's workers, "You lot, out of here, now. Harry, come with me, you've got some explaining to do."

Harry nodded to Neville and Hermione, as Bill bundled them all into the waiting cart. Griphook guided them back to the surface and ushered them into a private meeting room before turning expectantly to Harry, "Did you just destroy Voldemort's Horcrux?"

The three looked shocked and didn't reply for a second, so Bill continued. "Several years ago I was searching for the tomb of Pharaoh Thutmose III. He was one of the most powerful rulers of ancient Egypt and was renowned for his battle skills and immense riches, most of which were spoils of victory from his many battles.

Gringott's expected that the Pharaoh would have been buried with his most sacred treasures and hoped I would recover them. Sadly this was not to be, as the tomb had been plundered of all valuable items many years earlier."

"Well of course it was, Victor Loret's discovered Thutmose's tomb in 1898, but earlier robbers had stolen anything of value years before then," replied Hermione in a condescending tone, as if she was correcting Ron's homework.

Bill smiled indulgently. "Muggle records will also tell you Thutmose's tomb was one of the most sophisticated tombs in the Valley of Pharaohs. Why do you think that is? It is because Thutmose was a wizard. Muggles explorations only uncovered a very small area of his tomb."

Hermione gasped as Bill continued his explanation. "Your muggle records will also tell you that they found his body in another tomb. Do you honestly believe that?"

Hermione's face went pale as a horrible thought passed through her mind. "Wasn't Thutmose the immortal pharaoh?" she asked with trepidation.

"Indeed, I assumed that was some silly Muggle legend, so imagine my shock when after weeks of exploring, I uncovered his real burial chamber and found he was still very much alive."

Neville gasped as Bill paused for effect. "Thutmose had made a Horcrux in order to make himself immortal. However what he did not realise was that his body would still degenerate over the years. When he became old and frail, he was overthrown, and unable to be completely killed, they just mummified him and buried him alive."

This time Hermione gasped. "Despite having lain there for several thousand years, Thutmose was just able to talk to me, and with the help of my basic Occlumency and Legilimency skills I was able to extract the story of how his tomb was plundered. He told me, a very young wizard by the name of Lord Voldemort, fresh out of school, and working for a dealer in antiquities had discovered him nearly fifty years ago. Thutmose had told Voldemort about his Horcrux, an ornate staff similar to Merlin's, and had pleaded with Voldemort to destroy it. Voldemort had agreed, but only in return for details of how to make a Horcrux. Well I'm sure you can guess the rest, Voldemort got the information he needed, took the treasures and left Thutmose alive and alone with his staff; which is exactly how I found him."

"Did you kill him?"

"Of course I did. No matter how evil he had been in his time, I couldn't leave him like that. Now I'm done talking, I've explained to you how Voldemort learned how to make a Horcrux, and why he decided to seek out Merlin's Staff. So now it's your turn to explain what is going on, how that Horcrux came to be in your vault and why my little brother is in the hospital wing fighting for his life."

Harry nodded, "You're right, Bill. That was one of Lord Voldemort's Horcruxes."

"One of ..." Bills voice faltered, as his face went from angry to astonished.

"Yes, he split his soul seven times. Before I can kill him, we need to destroy each and every one of them."

Bill recovered from his shock quickly, "I'm the best curse breaker in Gringott's why in Godric's name didn't you come and ask me for help. I suppose Ron was injured by one? How many have you got?"

Harry launched into the tale of the Horcrux hunt, and ended by explaining that there was only one left, Nagini the snake.

"We need to tell the Order, they can help you. It's not right that you have to do this alone," reasoned Bill.

"Yes," agreed Hermione apparently deep in thought, "I think it's time to ask for the Order's help. Harry, I've got an idea."


	10. Hermione's Plan

**Chapter 10 – Hermione's plan**

The following morning Harry's frying skills were tested to the limit as he provided the entire Order of the Phoenix with a traditional cooked breakfast. Over the meal, Harry explained all that Dumbledore had told him about Voldemort's Horcruxes last year, and how he, Hermione, Ron and Neville had found and destroyed them. Harry's words were met with huge scepticism and derision until Neville walked out, and returned with the locket and the cup. As the Horcruxes were displayed, the meeting broke up in disarray.

It took Mad-Eye Moody several minutes to regain enough control to allow the youngsters to continue. Hermione took over and outlined her idea. "It was both Professor Dumbledore's and Frank Longbottom's belief that the last and magically most significant Horcrux was being reserved for a significant death, that of his prophesised adversary, Harry. Voldemort intended to use Gryffindor's sword as a receptacle for the Horcrux, an incredible irony, given that Harry is the last descendant of Godric Gryffindor. These facts combined would have created the most powerful of all his Horcruxes, however as we can thank Merlin that he was thwarted. James Potter was forewarned, Gryffindors sword remained secure at Hogwarts and Voldemort was expelled from his body by Lily's ancient blood magic.

Dumbledore suspected that Voldemort was desperate to make a final Horcrux once he returned, in order that reach the incredibly powerful, seven divisions of his soul. Dumbledore believed that Voldemort used his pet snake as the receptacle. From Harry's dreams, we know Voldemort is very attached to Nagini, probably the closest he has come to every loving anything. This would make sense if they shared his soul." Hermione paused following an outbreak of astonished whispering. A few others, Hagrid among them, nodded.

"What we need to do is separate Voldemort from his snake, which I assume is still in the Riddle House?" Moody and Tonks nodded. "I propose that we announce in public that Harry has discovered the famous Staff Of Merlin in his vault. We could go on to say that he is donating it to go on display at Hogwarts. Maybe we could hold some kind of press conference? If we do we make no mention of knowing about Horcruxes, so Voldemort will think it is an unlucky coincidence. This will serve two-fold. Firstly Voldemort will want to reclaim the staff and his Horcrux, so he will launch an attack on Hogwarts, probably while the press are there for maximum effect. Due to the difficulties of apparating with Nagini, hopefully he will leave her at the Riddle House. Secondly, he will be livid with Bellatrix who was entrusted to keep the Horcrux safe. He will force her to reveal that it was indeed in the Black Vault, thus confirming our story, and with a bit of luck he will kill her in the bargain."

There was a couple of seconds of complete silence after Hermione finished speaking, then absolute bedlam broke out, "We can't do that. If He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named attacks the school, I will never be able to persuade any pupils to return next month."

"This is preposterous, if Dumbledore couldn't fend off Voldemort, how can we, it would be like lambs to the slaughter, I'm not going to die for some kids."

"How dare yer refer to 'Arry in that way. Yer knows full well that if Dumbledore was 'ere, he would be doin' all he could to 'elp 'Arry."

"Hagrid, no! Put him down at once!"

"Silence, Silence, ORDER!!!" Moody finally managed to regain a semblance of control. "Miss Granger, there are a few things, you must understand about the Order. We are not a trained army. We can not afford to get involved in a direct battle with Vol .. him. In a straight fight his Death Eaters will massacre all of us. We're too old, woefully under-trained and ill-equipped. Our role is that of a resistance group; to plan, gather information and pick off Death Eaters one by one when the odds are in our favour."

"Very well," started Harry coldly. "I understand, but this is something I," he glanced at Hermione and Neville before correcting himself. "WE have to do. I would appreciate some help, so if any of you feel able."

With this Harry turned to leave, but Moody cut him off quietly pulling him aside. "I want you to understand why I cannot command the order to help you, lad. The Order of the Phoenix has no leader at the moment. I'm only chairing meetings until a successor is found." Moody cut off Harry's protest, "You need to know a little about our history before you criticise, boy. The Order of the Phoenix was founded by Albus, to enable those who were pure of soul to oppose Voldemort. He stipulated that, in the event of his death, a new leader would be chosen by a phoenix and not by any of us, but. In other words only a phoenix companion can be worthy enough to lead the Order into battle. Even if I asked, the current members wouldn't fight Voldemort at my command."

"Have you looked for anyone? I mean who … Fawkes?" Harry stumbled on his words as he remembered the beautiful phoenix flying into Dumbledore's funeral pyre.

"At the present time, there are only two phoenixes known to be in existence. One is bonded to a weird bloke who lives in Tibet, calls himself something nutty like Dolly the Llama. We've been to see him, but quite frankly, he's too potty to be of much use to us."

Harry unsuccessfully smothered a grin at the thought that Mad-Eye could consider anyone nuttier than himself. Moody's magical eye glared suspiciously at Harry as he continued. "The other phoenix is Fawkes, who after a short period of grief, will bond with another wizard. It is this wizard we shall ask to lead us. Until then we are going to lie low, we can not be expected to attack Voldemort without a leader. We can not even appoint you into the Order, as the phoenix has to approve all appointments. Although much good that has done us in the past, with people like Snape being appointed." Moody spat on the floor as he said the traitors name.

"That reminds me," said Harry turning back to address the whole room. "I went to see Dumbledore's portrait ..." The story of Snape's innocence caused perhaps more incredulity than Hermione's proposed plan. Eventually Harry got fed up and threw his chocolate frog card on the table before storming out saying, "why don't you bloody well ask Dumbledore yourself."

Harry could hear the disgruntled mumblings as he slammed the door shut, almost catching Hermione in the face, as she followed him out. She grabbed his arm. "Come on, let's go and see how Ron's getting on."

Ron, it transpired, was improving quickly. Although initially he was somewhat miffed that Harry and Hermione had not visited him much. He soon forgave them when he heard that they, or rather Bill, had found another Horcrux. As expected he was very enthusiastic with Hermione's idea to lure Voldemort into Hogwarts and away from Nagini. An idea that Hermione had strangely gone off, once she had remembered Ron was in the hospital wing. She bustled off to go and see Madame Pomfrey, leaving Harry and Ron to discuss the Chudley Cannons latest defeat. This time by 530 points to 10, against the Holyhead Harpies. (One of the Harpies chasers suffered a quaffle blow to the head, and scored at the wrong end while disorientated)

Hermione returned shortly, beaming. "Madame Pomfrey says you can come home tomorrow morning, if you promise to take all your potions and agree to do nothing strenuous, like attacking Voldemort, for a week!" Ron looked very hopeful, as Hermione added, "we've got to go, got an interview to plan." She kissed Ron and dragged Harry out of the hospital.

Harry turned apologetically to Ron who mouthed back, "She's mental that one!"

"You go ahead Hermione, I want to talk to Professor Dumbledore," called Harry heading towards Head's office, the Gargoyles opening up for him when he asked them to.

"Potter, how did you get in here? I changed the password. No matter, Please tell me you have given up with this ridiculous idea of Miss Granger's. It will destroy the school if You-Know-Who attacks it," started Professor McGonagall when he entered the room.

Harry looked at the wall, searching for support, but was saddened to see that the chintzy armchair in the portrait of Dumbledore was empty. "Professor, when I kill the snake, it will make Voldemort mortal again. I'm going to finish him off once and for all. You shouldn't worry about Hogwarts, with Voldemort gone, the school will flourish."

"Hmm, I can see that I'm not going to persuade you to stop. I have just been discussing this with Albus, while not happy; he does agree with Miss Granger that the earlier we can strike against You-Know-Who the better." Harry looked inquisitively at the empty portrait. "He's on an errand for me," McGonagall explained. "When are you doing this Pot... Harry?"

"Hermione is going to arrange the ceremony for tomorrow afternoon. It will be in tomorrow morning's_ Quibbler_."

"In that case, as headmistress, it is my duty to stay in my school and defend it against any attackers, even He-Who... Voldemort."

"Professor, do you think you could contact Snape and get him to persuade Voldemort to attack."

"Albus, explained to me about Severus. So yes, I'll send my patronus."

Harry thought he'd pushed his luck enough, so he trudged away from McGonagall's office and headed out of the castle, towards Hogsmead where he could apparate back to Grimmauld Place.

"'Arry, Come 'ere a minute."

"Hagrid!"

"I Just wanted you and 'ermione to know, that I'll be 'ere to 'elp yer. Even if the rest o' the Order won't."

"Thanks Hagrid, but you don't have to. Please take care of yourself tomorrow."

"Cheer up 'Arry, Dumbledore trusted yer, an' so do I. Now I aint clever enuff to understand what yer planning, but I knows 'ermione is the most intelligent witch there's ever been. So if she reckons this is the right thing to do, then this is what we'll do. McGonagall told me 'Ermoine even figured out I was secret keeper 'ere at 'ogwarts," finished Hagrid proudly.

"Yes, that's right. Umm Hagrid, what exactly does that mean?"

"Yer know 'Arry it's me job, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at 'Ogwarts. No-one can find the school if I don't show 'em. An' let me tell yer this, the only way them ruddy foreign Death Eaters is getting into 'Ogwarts is over my dead body."

Harry gulped, "please be careful Hagrid, it's not worth dying for."

Hagrid opened his mouth, but one look at Harry's face made him pause, "Don't yer worry 'bout me. I won't be on my own, I got Fang and Grawp 'ere to 'elp me. Madame Pomfrey let Ron out for a couple of hours yesterday and 'e's been 'elping me teach Grawp to recognise a Death Eater. They won't know what hit 'em. Now would yer like to 'elp me with a new batch o' screwts I got out in th' pumpkin patch?"

Harry made his excuses and left, but not before he once again urged Hagrid to be careful. From Hogsmead he apparated into the park next to Grimmauld Place, and walked up the street to the house where he spotted Fred and George aimlessly meandering around. "Can I help you?" he asked a miffed twin.

"Yeah, you can tell us where you ruddy well live; we can't get past the sodding charm." Harry laughed and guided them into Grimmauld Place. "What's happened to Mrs Black?" asked George as they passed through the empty hallway.

"Oh Hermione painted over her with black paint."

"Cool, how come we didn't think of that Forge?" asked his twin as they moved into the living room where they found Hermione feverishly scribbling on a piece of parchment.

"What can I do for you guys?" asked Harry.

"It's more what we can do for you. We heard that you're picking fight tomorrow afternoon?" Harry nodded. "Excellent, we'll be there. We've got several new products we want to demonstrate to the Death Eaters."

Harry started to ask what, but was interrupted by Hermione "Harry can you sign this for me?"

"Is it the article?"

"No, Luna has already published that, along with a photograph of Merlin's Staff, which Bill dropped off earlier. Don't worry, we cast a _reparo_ on it first," added Hermione at Harry's aghast look. She then thrust the parchment she'd been writing on across the table, and Harry and the twins bent over to read it.

_Dear Minister Scrimgeour, _

_While cleaning out the Gringott's vault I inherited from my late godfather, Sirius Black, (You know, the innocent person, the Ministry locked up in Azkaban for twelve years without a trial) I stumbled across the Staff Of Merlin. _

_Apparently this relic has been held by the most noble and ancient House of Black for many years. Gringott's most learned Goblin's have verified its authenticity beyond question. I believe that such an important item should not be locked away, unseen in a vault, but should be available for all to see. As a result, I am donating it to Hogwarts to go on display and to be used in the teaching of History of Magic. _

_The ceremony will take place tomorrow afternoon at Hogwarts, and I was wondering whether you would like to attend and receive the staff on behalf of Hogwarts. This could be a good photo opportunity for both me and the Ministry. _

_Yours sincerely, _

_Harry Potter. _

Harry and the twins looked at each other gob smacked, "Hermione! Are you intending to lure the Minister of Magic into a fight with Voldemort?" Hermione had been biting her bottom lip nervously as the boys read the letter, but following their approval, the corners of her mouth lifted in a smirk as she nodded her head slowly.

"That is seriously ruthless, I only wish we had thought of it," added Fred as he prostrated himself in front of her. "When this business is over, will you come and work for us Oh greatest, evilest, witch of all time?"

"Now, now Fred, stop hitting on your younger brother's girlfriend," commented Harry slyly.

Fred and George's eyes lit up, "Really, little Ronnikins? At last! We've just remembered we've been terrible brothers and haven't visited him once. Got to dash, bye!" shouted both twins simultaneously as they tore out the front door.

No sooner had the twins gone, than Lupin and Moody arrived, both appeared slightly worse for wear. "We've been discussing what you said at the meeting with Aberforth, Harry," announced Professor Lupin as he tried to prop himself up against a chair.

So that explained the slightly glazed look in their eyes, thought Harry. Even Moody's magical eye looked slightly foggy and out of focus. Moody opened his mouth to say something, but lost his balance and tripped over the chair causing his wooden leg to fall off, in turn sending both him and Remus sprawling into a heap on the floor.

Neville popped his head round the corner, having been disturbed by the noise and laughed. He walked over to the two drunks and waved his wand over them. "That's better, thanks laddy," said Moody rubbing his temple. "Very useful, what was the charm?"

Neville smirked, "Re-hydration charm, I use it on my plants."

"Must remember that one," Moody added reattaching his leg and looking more coherent, although Remus still looked a little green. "Now we've been thinking about what missy here said and while it does make sense, it's one hell of a risky plan. I don't like it one bit, and as a former aurer, I would never have dreamed of putting my men in a situation like this, and they were fully trained hit wizards. But we've received information that Voldemort is planning an attack on Hogwarts in the near future anyway.

Our sources suggest that while his recruitment drive over here has not been very successful, he has managed to recruit over a thousand followers from Eastern Europe. Couple this with about twenty giants, several hundred vampires and a rapidly breeding Dementor colony, which could already be in excess of a hundred."

The three youngsters lost their jovial look, at these figures. "There's no way we can stop all that," commented Harry quietly.

"Not a prayer," agreed Moody in far too jovial voice. "Which is why, we'll be in Hogwarts tomorrow afternoon. If it's my turn to join the founders, then I'm going to take as many of the cowardly scum with me that I can."

"We are hoping to have some Ministry auror assistance as well," added Hermione.

"Now, I admire your plan to get Voldemort to Hogwarts, missy. I'll even go so far as to say it may just work, but you'll find that's a walk in the park compared with trying to get Ministry aurors there to help us. The yellow-bellied bunch of cowardly ..."

"They might come if their beloved Minister was attacked during one of his official engagements," interrupted Hermione.

"Sweet Merlin, tell me you haven't" cried Remus, his head in his hands, as Moody erupted in gales of laughter. His glass eye revolving uncontrollably in its socket, as he gazed at Hermione with a new found respect.

"Come now Remus, I think we should drink a toast to this young witch. May we never cross her! I reckon Aberforth has another bottle of Ogdens finest with our names on it. Longbottom lad, what was that charm again?"

"Hermione, you haven't written any other letters today have you?" asked Harry thoughtfully after he noticed that both Pigwidgeon and Hedwig's cages were empty.

Hermione tried to look innocent, as she replied, "As it's a public event, I had to invite the press."

"Rita?" asked Harry approvingly as Hermione nodded once more." Wait a minute, how am I going to get away to get the Horcrux, if the Minister and _The Prophet_ are expecting me to be in Hogwarts?"

"That's because you won't be getting the Horcrux, Neville and I will."

"No way, I'm calling it off. I'm not letting you go into the Death Eaters haunt on your own."

"You haven't got a choice, Harry. It's all planned, and there is no way you can stop it. Now concentrate on keeping Voldemort busy, while I kill the snake."

Harry spent the remainder of the evening trying to think of a way to accompany Hermione to the Riddle House. But now matter how hard he though he couldn't come up with a better plan, and consequently it was a long time before he fell into a restless sleep.

Neville and Hermione sat huddled on a bench, on the Little Hangleton Village Green, hidden under Harry's invisibility cloak. "Now," whispered Neville as he glanced nervously at his watch for the umpteenth time. Slowly they rose and walked quietly past the Hanged Man pub, before they turned up the hill towards the Riddle House.

Hermione cast a well-practiced silencing charm on them as they reached the overgrown garden gate of the once prosperous house. Hermione nodded to Neville, who reached forward and inched the gate open. There was a small squeak, followed by a loud creak and then a deafening crash as the gate fell from its hinges onto the stone path. Hermione jumped in surprise and then screamed silently as a streak of green hit Neville in the head. He collapsed to the floor eyes permanently frozen in surprise, pulling the invisibility cloak off Hermione as he fell. She turned and knelt over Neville's body, tears running from her eyes, and then she too froze.

"_Petrificus Totalis_," hissed the voice of Antonin Dolohov from behind her. "Oh, look. What have we here? Potter's mud-blood whore!" He kicked Hermione over, and stared into her brown eyes, eyes that had given up all hope. "Yes mud-blood, you'll die soon enough, but first I fancy a little fun. _Evanseco!" _ Dolohov flicked his wand at Hermione's robes.

"No!" screamed Harry, awakening with a start. He looked around wildly, only to find himself in Sirius's old bedroom at Grimmauld Place sweating profusely. It took several minutes for his heart rate to return to normal and headed off for a cold bath. Ten minutes later he headed downstairs, there was no way he was going back to sleep again after that nightmare. Although it was before 6am, the kitchen was already full. Fred, George and Bill Weasley, Remus, Tonks, Mad Eye, Aberforth, Hagrid, Hermione, Neville and a beautiful Eagle owl all looked expectantly from Harry to the frying pan. Harry gulped as he caught Hermione's brown eyes, but his attention was soon diverted by the Eagle owl, who hopped one legged over to him, holding out the other leg. Harry unrolled the attached piece of parchment and glanced at it.

_Harry Potter, _

_The Minister is pleased that you have eventually decided to work with the Ministry in these difficult times. He has graciously consented to attend the ceremony this afternoon, and will floo directly into Hogwarts shortly before the event. _

_Yours _

_Percy Weasley, (Assistant to the Minister of Magic)._

As he finished reading, the front door opened and in walked Arthur Weasley accompanied by a tired looking Ron. "Minerva met with Severus this morning," added Arthur. "The good news is that He-Who-Must-Not-Named has fallen for your scheme. Severus says he plans to attack just after the ceremony starts. The problem is that his forces are much greater and better prepared than any of us could have imagined. He called a meeting last night, and literally hundreds of foreign Death Eaters appeared. He wants to see how good they are, a sort of dry run before they try and take over the Ministry Of Magic. He ordered the Dementors, the werewolves, the giants and the vampires to march overnight and hide in the mountains ready to join him. It looks very much like this is going to be the final battle." Mr Weasley grabbed the last remaining empty chair, sitting down with almost a defeated look as the rest stared on in stunned silence.

Eventually Bill stood up. "Both good and bad news here too, dad. The Goblins are not prepared to support us, unless a direct attack is made on Gringotts. Even though we all know thatVoldemort will march on Diagon Alley immediately after he takes control of Hogwarts, I was unable to persuade Ragnok to help us."

Harry could see Tonks bury her head in her hands at this news. "However," continued Bill. "We needn't worry about the vampires. Apparently they flew into a Veela colony, on their way across Europe last night and attacked several of the younger members. Fleur assures me that Veela fireballs are particularly effective against creatures which are allergic to light. Anyway, the result is that the few remaining vampires have been forced back into Eastern Europe, and the Veela's are so furious they are blocking their passage. Knowing how mad Fleur can get when I annoy her, I would say there is no chance of any of them getting here especially as they can't travel in daylight." Bill paused, but nobody could raise even a weak smile at his joke. As he turned to sit down, he added. "Oh, nearly forgot, Charlie and a friend are flying over directly to Hogwarts to help."

Ron who was standing behind Hermione cleared his throat nervously, as his older brother finished. "I talked to Dobby yesterday and asked for help. He organised a meeting in the kitchens late last night, of all the house-elves. Although he couldn't convince them alone, his urgings together with those who were old enough to remember Tom Riddle as a school boy, were enough to persuade the Head Elf to go and see Dumbledore's portrait last night, while cleaning McGonagall's office." Ron paused for breath. "It would appear that our late headmaster used his '_I will only truly have left this school when none here are loyal to me,'_ speech again. Anyway its part of their bond, their Master can order them to fight, so when you get there this afternoon, you will be joined by one hundred and six house elves."

Hermione looked furious at the thought the Elves were being forced to fight because of their bond to the school, but before she could say anything, Professor Lupin had stood up. "The werewolves have responded to Greyback's summons, but most have done this due to fear of retribution from him. Although they will line up against us, about half will be looking primarily to save their own skins first." He sat back down again, squeezing Tonks's hand in encouragement as she stood.

"Bad news I'm afraid, the Ministry tracked mass Dementor movement towards Scotland overnight. Umbridge is reportedly delighted, as they are now further away from the Ministry. So there are no Ministry plans to do anything at all." Tonks paused looking dejected. "However the body of Bellatrix LeStrange was dumped in Knockturn Alley a couple of hours ago. It will be in the _Prophet_ later, depicted as a successful capture by aurors." She sat back down again, shaking her head in disgust.

Hagrid stood up nervously, hitting his head on the ceiling. As he wiped his nose on his filthy sleeve Harry couldn't help but notice his bloodshot eyes. "The Merpeople 'ave agreed to defend the portal at the bottom of the lake. The one that leads straight to Durmstrang, nothin' will get past them." Hagrid sniffed loudly. "The ruddy centaurs won't help us, they reckon it's written in the stars an' they won't change it. Buggers chased me from the forest, an' threatened to attack any humans that goes in there again. An' I can't get near them ruddy spiders since Aragog died, but if they're prepared to kill me, they'll kill Death Eaters too, they ain't fussy. So I've asked the Headmistress to tell Snape to attack through the forest."

Hagrid paused, took a deep breath and continued, "Olympe an' some other teachers from Beauxbaton found a colony o' giants, as they crossed the Alps, last night. Olympe was ... was killed." Hagrid took out a giant filthy bed sheet and blew his nose on it, massive tears streaming down his face.

Bill stepped back in at this point, "Fleur tells me that the French Ministry is outraged by this unprovoked atrocity against the Headmistress of their premier education academy. The entire French auror squad was despatched to destroy the Giants."

Hagrid sniffed loudly and turned towards the fireplace. "I gotta get back and get ready. Alastor, I'll be in me 'ut if you need me."

Moody stood to take his turn at speaking, "I always knew this day would come. Albus warned me, but I didn't think it would be so soon or that there would be so few of us. But at least we know what we're facing and have prepared. It'll be a surprise for them when we fight back and not a surprise to us. The plan is that all of us except Hagrid, for obvious reasons, will hide in the castle whether we participate in the ceremony or not. While the fidelius charm remains, only the Death Eaters who attended Hogwarts will be able to see it. We can use this to our advantage, as we can attack them from inside the castle, but they will not be able to return fire on us. If the fidelius charm falls, we will still be better placed to attack from inside the castle, as the Death Eaters will be below us and exposed in the open. Remember castles were built to protect their occupents, so under no circumstances does anyone leave the castle, ok?"

Everyone slowly nodded, "Under NO circumstances, understand?" repeated Moody to a chorus of agreement. "Now the anti-apparition wards should be strong enough to prevent Death Eaters apparating into the castle initially. Bill and Minerva will be strengthening and monitoring them as necessary, but it is likely they will fall at some point. When that happens we need to stick together and all fight to protect the main hall. If we spilt up we are doomed.

Finally, Ron lad, you stay here. When we are attacked, we will send word. You must floo the ministry, the press and anyone else you can think of." Moody's speech was greeted with silence as the gravity of the situation sank in. Harry found very few people could muster an appetite for his breakfast and before long, Tonks, Lupin, Moody, Bill, the twins and their father all flooed into Hogwarts to prepare.

Harry caught hold of Neville and Hermione just as they were about to go. "Err, Neville take care, and I errr, suggest that you don't try and go in to the Riddle House through the front gate. It's old and rusty and will probably fall off its hinges. They will also be guarding it, watching to see it open." Neville looked sideways at him, as Harry continued. "Don't forget a silencing charm will only cover the specific thing its cast on."

"Ummm, ok. Are you all right, Harry?"

"Just take care of yourselves, you two, I'm worried about this." Neville and Hermione nodded and disappeared. Leaving just Ron and Harry "Bye, mate" called Harry finally after an awkward pause, and then he too stepped into the fire holding Merlin's Staff.


	11. Hagrid's Army

**Chapter 11 – Hagrid's Army**

In a blind panic as he sat nervously waiting for the ceremony to start. How could everyone else be so calm when they knew what was going to happen? He looked around the other defenders, those that were putting their lives willingly on the line for him. Harry had been slightly surprised to find that most of the Hogwart's staff had turned up, including Professor Flitwick, Madam Pomfrey and even Firenze the centaur. Firenze had been talking with Professor McGonagall in her office when the Minister and his entourage had arrived. By all accounts when Dolores Umbridge stepped out of the fireplace and spotted the divination Professor, she had soiled herself before diving headlong back into the floo network. Percy Weasley had similarly returned to London when he ran into three of his brothers in a nearby corridor.

As the ceremony progressed, and the expected attack drew ever closer, Harry's nerves increased to breaking point. He sat fidgeting as he wondered which of his friends would pay the ultimate sacrifice for him today. How many more deaths was he going to be responsible for?

At Professor McGonagall's nod, Harry forced a smile onto his face and stood, finding that his hands were sweating and shaking violently. It was all he could not to drop the staff, when he presented it jointly to Minister Scrimgeour and Professor McGonagall. Harry opened his mouth to give the speech, which Hermione had written for him, but his mouth was so dry the only thing which came out was a harsh cough.

Mistaking the cause of Harry's fear, Scrimgeour cut in. "Thank you Harry for this most generous donation, which I have just accepted on behalf of the school. Now, I'd like to say a few words about last nights successful Death Eater capture." He paused for effect and posed smugly with Harry and McGonagall in front of Rita Skeeters camera.

"Attack, we're under attack from Death Eaters," screamed Tonks as she ran into the Great Hall, reminiscent of how Quirrell had announced the troll many years earlier. The Great Hall emptied in an instant as everyone tore to their pre-arranged positions. Soon only Rita Skeeter and Minister Scrimgeour, open-mouthed and still clutching the staff, remained in the Great Hall. Rita used the opportunity to take a couple of photographs of the gob-smacked Minister.

Harry shared a window with the Weasley twins and anxiously peered out over Hagrid's cabin. He could see Grawp tethered to an old oak tree next to the pumpkin patch, but more prominently than that, was a slowly advancing line of Death Eaters, which filled his entire field of vision. With a sinking heart, Harry realised that there must be hundreds of wizards, although there was a gap in the line where the Forbidden Forest lay. Harry could hear a mixture of shouts, and faint clicking noises coming from deep inside the Forest. He suspected and hoped that any Death Eaters advancing through there had met the Acromantula.

As he watched the Death Eaters, Harry realised with a sudden heavy heart, that his plan had condemned Hagrid to certain death. Now he knew why Moody had repeatedly made them swear not to leave the castle. Harry closed his eyes, he'd done it again, killed one of the closest people to him. Unwillingly he opened his eyes and saw a dozen or so Death Eaters came running out of the Forest, trying to rejoin their ranks, pursued by a herd of centaurs. The large roan lead centaur raised his bow and fired an arrow felling one of the hooded men with ease. As one, the other centaurs raised their bows and fired. The Death Eater's returned fire, illuminating the dull, misty air with green and red streaks. The bodies of Centaurs and Death Eaters fell to the ground, as the battle for control of Hogwarts began in earnest.

The commotion awoke Grawp, who stood up to his full height, ripping the tree from its roots. The noise of it crashing to the ground brought Hagrid, bow and arrow ready from his hut. Hagrid was followed, not by Fang the Boarhound, but by Fluffy the three headed dog which had guarded the Philosopher's Stone. Fluffy's three heads were barking and snapping furiously as it successfully freed itself from its' three leashes, and hackles bared set up protectively in front of Hagrid.

With earth trembling steps Grawp moved in front of Hagrid as well. "Hagger!" he shouted.

"Oh so you've taught the filthy giant to speak have you?" came a familiar oily voice. "I didn't think you had mastered speech yet?"

Hagrid started to turn purple in rage, but Grawp took it in his stride. "Hagger," he repeated pointing at his brother. Then the giant turned and waving a hand at Lucius Malfoy while declaring in his slow voice, "Wanker!"

Hagrid nodded encouragingly at Grawp, "That's right."

"Cool," so that's what our brother meant when he said he'd been teaching Grawp to recognise Death Eaters," sniggered Fred from next to Harry.

The surrounding Death Eaters launched a ferocious attack on Grawp and Fluffy following Grawp's outburst, however they made some fundamental errors. Anyone that has ever faced a three headed dog will know that casting a Reductor Curse on one of its heads will leave two other fully functioning and rather angry heads. Two Death Eaters found this out to their cost as they were ripped apart. Another dozen or so cast curses at Grawp, failing to realise that giant skin is impermeable to spells.

Grawp appeared to have taken a liking to Fluffy, and as the dog was attacked he roared in rage. Effortlessly he picked up Death Eaters one after the other and hurled them high into the air. Several flew clean over the Forbidden Forest; one went through the roof of Greenhouse Three, another landed on top of the Astronomy tower. When Fluffy's final head was decapitated and the dog died, Grawp roared with an fury that shattered the remaining windows in the castle and charged the line of Death Eaters. Many were trampled, others fell victim to his flailing arms. Some, like Malfoy turned and fled towards the Forest. Hagrid kept his bow and arrow aimed, and fired periodically with an un-nerving accuracy, as he felled any who aimed at his little brother. But it couldn't last forever and eventually a killing curse struck the giant cleanly in the eye, where there was no protective skin. Even in death Grawp helped the cause, his eighteen foot frame crushed several more attackers as he fell to the ground for the last time.

Harry couldn't bear to look as the jubilant Death Eaters hexed Grawp's fallen body. Instead he glanced towards the lake, at a group of Voldemorts followers who were trying to take refuge from the centaurs' ferocious onslaught. As he watched, the Death Eaters moved stealthily to hide behind an old willow tree. The Death Eaters never knew what hit them, as a heavy bough from the old tree slowly drew back before crashing down through their skulls.

Steadying himself, Harry looked back to Hagrid, who was now backing up towards the castle, still firing his cross-bow. As he crossed behind the pumpkin patch, Harry could see several figures crawling through it wands raised; poised to strike at the oblivious Hagrid. Before he could cast _sonorous_ and shout a warning, there was a loud explosion and one of the pumpkins appeared to shoot forwards alerting Hagrid to their stealthy attack. It appeared that the Death Eaters had disturbed a dozing Skrewt. Hagrid's crossbow picked off the screaming pair and he continued his retreat towards the castle.

When the advancing Death Eaters were in range, Moody gave the signal and the defenders launched a barrage of spells down onto the Death Eaters. As Harry concentrated on getting his spells through their shields, he noticed a dark shape flying through the air, coming closer and closer. The line of Death Eaters noticed it as well, but not before several were engulfed in fire, as Norbert, the Norwegian Ridgeback soared effortlessly overhead. Harry could see a figure sat atop the dragon, whose red hair was an exact match for the flame which was coming from his stead's mouth. Harry shook his head to focus, and returned to launching spells down on those Death Eaters who were closest. Hagrid was by now backed against the castle wall and fully surrounded. Harry shuddered as one sent a jet of green light directly into Hagrid's chest. The curse bounced off Hagrid's part-giant skin and rebounded, causing the Death Eater to jump in avoidance right into the path of Hagrid's swinging left hook. The Death Eater soared some thirty yards before landing completely still on the lawn.

"Have you lot learned nothing? Go for the oafs eyes, you fools!" the familiar voice of Lord Voldemort screamed. As he saw the jet of green head towards Hagrid's face, Harry involuntarily shut his own eyes tightly, but he still felt the castle shimmer as the Fidelius Charm was broken.

Although tears were flowing down his cheeks, Harry resolutely continued blasting spells down onto the attackers. It was harder going now, as Voldemort had quickly re-organised his raw recruits. Soon the Death Eaters were working as a unit to protect each other, while they sought to bring down the castle wards. More often than not, Harry and the other defenders found their spells rebounded harmlessly off their enemies shields, causing more damage to the castle than anything else.

Charlie was having more success. Harry watched as Norbert swooped overhead yet again, leaving a wall of flame behind him. While the Death Eaters could often shield against the initial strike, when the ground they were stood on erupted into flames they had more trouble. Harry also noticed several of the larger Acromantula sneak out of the Forest and cocoon up the straggling Death Eaters

But just as Harry though that the wards might hold and the attackers would be repelled, he felt the entire castle shuddered to its very foundations. Moody's amplified voice echoed round shortly after. "The wards are down, back to the Great Hall now."

As he turned to follow the twins, Harry saw out of the corner of his eye Norbert spiralling out of control towards the ground. One of his wings was partially severed and hanging limply by his side. Harry was grateful that Fred and George were in front of him and hadn't seen the despairing look of the figure clinging onto the falling dragon. Once in the Hall, Harry still found himself next to Fred and George, who summoned a large and gaudily decorated box from elsewhere in the castle.

"Little present for the Death Eaters," George said his eyes glinting dangerously and clashing horribly with his bright red hair and dragon-hide robes.

Harry took a deep breath, and tried to forget what he'd just seen. Trying to fake curiosity, he looked into the box, reading product names out loud, "Popcorn grenade and Duplicator ring?"

"George has started dating a Muggle girl, he got the idea for a popcorn grenade when he had to take her to a Muggle cinema and some little brats were throwing it all over the place," sniggered Fred.

George retaliated immediately, "I wasn't the one who developed the prototype duplicating ring. You claimed if you wore it on your finger it created an extra finger, Alicia told me that wasn't where you wore it."

Fred blushed bright red and stammered, "Err, Harry the, err, duplicating ring has been modified to create a doppelganger of yourself if you wear it. This makes it harder for the enemy to hit you."

A lone pop had everyone drawing their wands, as a single Death Eater apparated into the Great Hall. Gregory Goyle realised his mistake too late as he was hit by a rainbow of light. While this was happening the Great Hall was flooded with daylight as the entrance doors finally gave way to a barrage of spells. Dark wizards appeared from everywhere. As Harry ducked for cover behind a table, he noticed for each Death Eater, a house-elf also appeared. He saw a particularly tiny gnarled house-elf appear in front of a six foot wizard. The Death Eater just laughed at the elf, that was until the creature straightened out its knotted finger and the wizard flew out through a window. The little elf looked quite smug with itself, until it spotted a spell-damaged bookcase, with a horrified squeak it rushed towards the bookcase and started repairing it.

Harry popped up behind his shield and fired off a couple of spells successfully felling McNair, before he dropped back behind his shield. He could see Scrimgeour, who had apparently remained in the Hall all along, and was impressed to see that he was holding his own in a fierce duel against three or four Death Eaters. Mad-Eye was hopping around with an agility that belied his age and wooden leg. Harry was thankful that Moody could literally see through the back of his head, as he watched the retired Auror spin and blast the Death Eater who was creeping up behind him.

Harry found himself jostled slightly as George raised his wand above the table and hexed Snape's behind. "Excellent shot brother of mine, right up his greasy arse!" Harry gazed as Snape grabbed his rear, shook and then appeared to collapse bonelessly onto the floor. He slithered undignified and unnoticed out of the room. Harry glanced at George who shrugged, "He asked McGonagall to take him out of the battle, so we used the only useful spell we learned from Lockhart."

"Couldn't you have done something more painful?" asked Harry

"More painful? You realise he'll have to drink a gallon of Skele-Go now, and that stuff tastes like Hag piss."

Harry rose from behind his shield again and sent a carefully aimed cutting hex at one of two large wizards that Mr Weasley was duelling. The wizard dropped his wand as the hex sliced open his arm, allowing Mr Weasley time to stun him. Harry was about to cast again when he felt a dull ache in his head, as someone probed his thoughts. Dropping back under the table he concentrated on his Occlumency defences as Voldemort called out to his mind, "Come out, Harry. Come out wherever you are."

Harry tried to clear his mind, he really did, but Voldemort was too strong. He could only cower there, as his nemesis marched through the entrance doors and across the Great Hall. Duelling wizards parted in awe, as Voldemort strode towards Harry banishing the table from between them until he was only yards away.

"Oh look Fred, its You-No-Poo," called out George as he stepped protectively in front of Harry, "Here catch this oh constipated Lord." Voldemort momentarily looked confused as the small grenade landed by his feet, before it exploded burying him under a ten foot mound of popcorn. Fred and George used the momentary diversion to drag Harry into the small alcove at the back of the main Hall, which had been used for the Triwizard champions. As George sealed the door, Fred delved into the box he'd summoned and started putting Duplicating Rings on his hands.

Voldemort apparated through the sealed door, only to come face to face with four Freds. "_Avada Kedavra_," he screamed. The spell sailed straight threw a doppelganger Fred hitting a suit of armour instead, which exploded. All four Freds responded by simultaneously making an obscene hand gesture at Voldemort while blowing him a raspberry. Enraged, Voldemort disappeared with a swish of his cloak, re-appearing behind George, this time waist deep in a newly laid portable swamp. George leaned over and grabbed the Dark Lord's wand as he struggled in the slimy sludge.

While Voldemort had been distracted, Harry had broken their connection and regained control of his mind. He managed to stagger to his feet and turned wand raised, wondering if Hermione had destroyed Nagini yet. But before he could act Voldemort had vanished with another swish of his cloak. The Dark Lord momentarily appeared next to George, who was pulling something else out of the box of goodies, grabbed his wand and was gone. The four Freds swore as one, and blasted the door open, in time to see Lord Voldemort raise his wand and cast the killing curse at Professor McGonagall. This time there was no jet of green light, only a soft clucking noise as Voldemort's wand turned into a rubber chicken. Both McGonagall and Voldemort stared at the wand in shock for a few seconds until a bony house-elf ejected the Dark Lord out through the open doorway.

Harry turned in amazement as he saw George snap Voldemort's real wand and do a small victory jig in celebration, failing completely to see the purple jet heading towards him. The curse hit George's robes and fizzled out. "Finest Dragon-Hide robes," called all four Freds as they fired collective red curses at the unfortunate Death Eater.

Harry tried to concentrate as he stared around the Great Hall, in the few seconds they had been duelling Voldemort the entire room had been destroyed. There were dead bodies everywhere, mounds of decapitated elves, hooded Death Eaters and with a sinking feeling, that instantly dissipated the joy of seeing Voldemort repelled, Harry recognised the body of Professor Flitwick. As he stared at the corpse of the diminutive Professor, Harry heard a Death Eater call out, "_Accio_ wooden leg." Harry turned in time to see Mad Eye Moody hit by a killing curse that he could no longer dodge.

Although many had fallen others were still standing strong, Harry could see Bill duelling simultaneously with four or five Death Eaters. His scarred face and fang earring glinted menacing, as a bolt of lightening flashed across the enchanted ceiling. With effortless ease Bill' shield absorbed his attacker's spells, and one by one he blasted the Death Eaters in retaliation. Meanwhile Mr Weasley and Remus were battling Greyback in the corner while McGonagall was now taking on a witch who looked half her age. As Harry watched, she transfigured her opponent into a small rabbit, which hopped panic stricken towards the exit. Smiling, Harry looked back and saw that McGonagall had vanished, but he did see a distinctively marked Tabby cat follow the disappearing bunny.

Tonks was tackling three foreign wizards from behind a flamboyant multi-coloured shield. Harry made a mental note to ask her for the incantation later, as he sent a stunning spell at one of her opponents. The Death Eater fell to the ground, but not before he had fired another hex at Tonks. As Harry watched, she tried to duck behind her shield to avoid the spell but instead tripped over a broken chair, right into the path of the bludgeoning hex. Harry heard Remus's screams and saw him leave Greyback and rush towards his beloved's broken body, but neither Harry not Remus noticed the small rat with a silver paw creep out from underneath a table.

Harry's thoughts were interrupted as the castle walls shimmered again, "Anti-apparition ward," whispered George. "Looks like the Aurors have arrived. Sure enough, seconds later the massively outnumbered Order forces were bolstered as twenty or thirty aurors ran in through the doorway. The tide was turning, as the reinforcements joined into the battle, demoralising the attacking Dark Forces.

Harry felt a slight burning in his pocket. Instinctively he thrust his hand deep into the offending pocket and pulled out his DA galleon. The side was glowing bright red and hurt to touch, but Harry didn't care, he turned it on edge and read a single word inscribed where the serial number should have been; '_HELP_'. Harry's heart sank through the floor. Only one person could set the DA coins, the one person he had sent into Voldemort's lair, Hermione. Immediately images of his dream flashed through his mind, as Harry turned and broke cover, ignoring the other's shouts. He ran to the main staircase, casting a quick shield charm behind him, as he climbed the stairs two at a time. For the first dozen strides everyone was too shocked to react; then spells started streaking from the Death Eaters. Almost immediately the Order returned with covering fire.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw a Death Eater, who was hiding behind a statue, aim at him. Almost immediately the attacker dropped his wand as Peaves soaked him with a well timed water bomb and hovered over the unfortunates head singing, "Here. He's hiding here, nasty smelly Death Eater!"

Harry turned the corner at the top of the stairs and sprinted down the corridor towards the statue of the one-eyed witch. As he ran past a suit of armour, a foot emerged from behind it, tripping him and sending him sprawling down the corridor. As he desperately felt around in the blur for his glasses, Harry heard Lucius Malfoy call out "_Accio _Wand."

He felt his wand struggle out from under his leg and fly away, as he finally got his glasses back on his nose. He turned and looked down the end of Lucius's wand. "This is for Draco," sneered the blonde Death Eater. "_Avada_ ..." Lucius Malfoy never finished his sentence, as he was thrown down the corridor with such a force that his spine broke on impact with the wall. Harry struggled to his knees and turned to see a pair of huge eyes and long pointy ears.

"Dobby, warned him, Dobby said to him you shall not harm Harry Potter." The little Elf stopped talking and thought for a second, before he turned and started to head butt the suit of armour. "Dobby is a bad, bad elf. Harry Potter is telling him never to save his life again, and Dobby is disobeying him. Dobby must be punished, Dobby will go and take off his tea cosy and iron his …"

"No, stop it Dobby. I forbid you to hurt yourself. I can not thank you enough for disobeying me and saving my life. Please don't hurt yourself," said a grateful Harry as he picked up his wand and turned back to the statue of the witch. He tapped his wand on her hump and muttered "_Disdendium"_ as it opened. Quickly Harry jumped down into the passage below and ran as fast as he could to Honeydukes cellar, from where he could apparate to Little Hangleton. As he stopped spinning, he found himself at wand point yet again. His eyes followed the wand, up its owners arm and he found himself looking into Ron's face.

"Oh thank Merlin, it's you Harry. You've got to help, Hermione ... my Galleon ..." Out of breath and clutching a stitch in his side, Harry could only nod, before once again starting off towards the Riddle House. As they approached the old house, they could immediately see something was very, very wrong. The scene of devastation that met their eyes was equal, if not worse to the state of Hogwarts that Harry had left.

"What in Godric's name has happened here?" asked Ron.

"It looks like someone's pissed Hermione off," replied Harry grimly as he cast a disillusionment charm on the pair of them.

Carefully they made their way towards a large hole in the front of the house, where the front door had formerly been. Harry breathed a small sigh of relief as he stepped over Dolohov's mutilated body on the way. Peering through the hole they could see most of the interior of the Riddle house had been similarly destroyed. AS Harry and Ron quickly searched the ground floor for signs of life, they heard a piercing scream emanating from upstairs.

"Hermione," they breathed, simultaneously rushing for the rickety spell-damaged staircase. Once at the top, Harry found he knew the way. He let his memory of Frank Bryce's death lead him towards the end room, where through the open door he saw Hermione and Neville. They were both sat tied, back to back, in front of the fireplace. Neville's robes were torn and blood stained, his head lolled to one side. Harry hoped beyond hope that Neville was just unconscious and not dead. Hermione was clearly awake, but she was petrified with fear, blood was gushing out of a long deep cut on her cheek. To the right of Hermione, and with his back to Harry and Ron stood Ollivander, his wand was trained on the two captives, he too looked worse for wear. However, the most frightening sight in the room was a massive forty foot snake, which had raised it's head up to ceiling level. Its jaws were wide open poised to strike, slime dribbling from its mouth as it anticipated a tasty meal. The snake hissed softly as it opened its eyes preparing to go for the kill.

Ron and Harry burst into the room together. Ron screamed, "_Avada Kedavra_," and a shot of green light emerged from his wand, causing Ollivander to fall to the floor, while simultaneously Harry hissed "No Stop!" in parseltongue. Nagini the snake paused for a second as if pondering what Harry had said. But as she couldn't see the disillusioned wizards, the giant serpent shook its head slowly before lowering its on Hermione and Neville.

"No, leave them alone and go back to Brazil where you belong." Harry hissed at the snake in as threatening manner as he could. He brandished his wand flamboyantly as he cancelled his disillusionment charm, desperately trying to distract the reptile. If only he could get it to look at him, then he could blast it in the eyes; the most vulnerable part of a serpent.

This time the snake paused for a long while before replying. "Amigo, I remembersssss you, you freed me from ze zoo." As it turned to look at Harry, they were both distracted when Ron called out, "_Accio_, Ollivanders Wand." There was a faint whooshing sound, which got progressively louder, as several hundred wands, many still in boxes, made their way up from the cellar and completely buried Ron from sight. Harry quickly turned back to the boa constrictor which had lowered its head.

"I will not kill your friendssss" it hissed as is started to slither out of the room.

"Wait," Harry called after it, "I can't let you go because you're a Horcrux."

The snake looked confused, "A Horcrusssss?" Harry proceeded to explain the ritual to the snake, "Spellsssss, no, ussss serpentsssss won't allow anyone to cast magic on usssss. Voldemort milked me and drank it to survive. He never cast anything on me."

Ron had staggered out from under the pile of wands and had freed Hermione, who had immediately started berating him for his stupid summoning spell. To shut her up, Ron had kissed her. Harry turned away from Nagini in confusion, as the snake slithered out of the door. Dumbledore had been adamant that the snake was a Horcrux. He shook his head and moved over to enervate Neville, who thankfully regained consciousness and started to groan. Harry didn't want to interrupt his friends but was desperate for answers, so he gave an Umbridge like cough and asked. "What happened here Hermione?"

"To start with it went according to our plans. We kept watch on the house from the village using a pair of binoculars and as expected everyone appeared to leave. What we didn't know was that many of the more experienced Death Eaters stayed. Neville was adamant that we didn't use the gate to enter the house in case you were correct about it being warded and watched. So under cover of your cloak I checked it out. That reminds me, _Accio_ Cloak."

Harry's invisibility cloak emerged from under Ollivander's body and flew into Hermione's arms. Harry folded it up and placed it in his pocked as Hermione continued. "The gate was warded as you warned us, so we assumed you were right about it being watched too. Neville acted as a decoy and walked up to the gate and opened it, while I worked my way up from the other end of the garden. The watchers underestimated Neville's agility and shield charm, and as soon as they stood to attack him, I felled them from behind." Hermione gulped but continued, "I had to be ruthless, I could not run the risk that they would attack us." Ron moved in to comfort Hermione, but she continued. "The commotion caused the other Death Eaters to investigate, but by this stage Neville and I were well-encamped in the grounds. We picked them off one-by-one as they emerged from the house; that was until I saw Dolohov. He was the one who attacked me in the ministry and killed my parents. I couldn't help it. I lost control when I saw him in the doorway."

"This," Ron waved at the carnage, "was ONE spell?"

Hermione nodded, "I'm not proud I wanted revenge."

Ron turned to face Harry saying, "I told you she was scary mate." Then he realised his mistake and held Hermione tighter, "Wow, that's brilliant dear."

Hermione didn't seem to think it was brilliant though. She continued, "We went into the house, looked in the cellar first where the only thing we found was Ollivander tied up, in a locked room. We freed him and went upstairs to look for Nagini. We found her in the Muggle bedroom alone. As soon as we got in the room, Ollivander who was following behind disarmed and incarcerated us. I should have known when Bill told us that his shop had not been damaged that he was in league with them. He set us up when he heard us coming into the house, cast a few spells on himself and locked the door to make it look like he was a prisoner."

"You couldn't know that," comforted Ron.

"But I should have done. OLLIVANDER is an anagram of AN EVIL LORD," wailed Hermione.


	12. Godric's Hollow

**_A/N._**

**_Do you remember the warning at the start of this fic? Well, this chapter and the next one are the reason it was written. But, I will say one thing, please trust me and if you read beyond this point, please stay until the end of chapter 14 (The Epilogue), where all will be revealed._**

**_And on a lighter note, thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed._**

**Chapter 12 – Godric's Hollow**

A loud scream from the garden drew Harry's attention from Hermione's revelation, and together they ran down the stairs to find Nagini preparing to strike down Ginny and Luna.

"Stop," hissed Harry.

"More friendssss," hissed the snake annoyed, "Isss there anyone you don't know?" Nonetheless Nagini lowered it's head, and instead considered Dolohov's remains, checking Harry carefully a couple of times before swallowing the Death Eater whole. Luna ran into the devastated house, while Harry hugged Ginny, her lips hungrily finding his.

"DA Galleon … worried about you … had to come …" Ginny told him between kisses as Harry lost himself in her familiar scent. That is until he heard, "_Sectumsempra, Avada Kedavra_."

Harry pushed Ginny away and rounded on Hermione who had just killed Nagini. "What did you do that for? She wasn't a Horcrux."

"So I see, but I'll never trust the word of a snake alone," said Hermione in a very fierce battle weary voice. At Harry's look of indignation and anger, Hermione expertly changed the subject. "We need to get Neville to Hogwarts hospital wing, and quickly."

"Oh Godric! I'd forgotten, they're still fighting at Hogwarts. It was going badly we'd better help." The four staggered back inside, to find Luna casting healing spells over Neville, who was now standing and his groans had been replaced with a kind of purr.

"The Hogwart's floo will no longer be guarded, as the castle had already been overrun when I left. So lets floo from here." Harry passed some of his spare powder around as Hermione cast one of her blue flames into the grate. Before he stepped into the fire, Harry looked at the pile of wands, he didn't want to leave them there for any returning Death Eaters to pick up, so he used the spell Dumbledore had shown him, to banish them to Grimmauld Place. Satisfied, Harry stepped into the flames.

As they climbed from the fire in the Head's Office a depressing mist immediately shrouded them. "Dementors? What next?" Harry called out wearily as he led them down the eerie steps, past the gargoyle and into an empty passageway. The Great Hall was also apparently deserted, but as Harry approached the open doorway, he heard the familiar screems of his parents. Then he saw a throng of Dementors gliding in through the open doors.

"_Expecto Patronum_!" The six yelled as one. Harry's Prongs flew from his wand and charged forcing the Dementors out the door. It was followed by Ginny's tiger, Hermione's otter and Ron's fox. Even Neville managed a corporeal Patronus which was a large bulldog. Luna's was a strange creature which resembled a toad, but appeared to have a large squashed horn on its flat nose. Prongs and the other Patroni were doing a good job at herding up individual Dementors and keeping them away from the entrance doors, but Harry noticed that the foul creatures were petrified of Giny's tiger Patronus. They shrieked and flew away from it at top speed. Harry idly thought that maybe Dementors had good memories after all.

Within seconds the soul-suckers were repelled from the Hall and were gliding back towards the Forest. The mist started to lift over the castle as the patroni galloped back towards their castors, before fading from sight. Harry turned, lowered his wand and collapsed with exhaustion in Ginny's arms, as several aurors sheepishly reappeared in the Hall.

Harry awoke many hours later, to find himself in his usual bed in a packed hospital ward, with Ginny sat in chair alongside his bed. Harry looked into her eyes and could see she had been crying. He didn't know a better way to put the question, so he whispered, "Charlie?"

Ginny swallowed hard and nodded, as she tried to wipe a fresh stream of tears from her cheeks. "Professor McGonagall said they used a cutting hex, to sever the wing off his dragon. He was probably killed by the fall, but we'll never know." She swallowed hard. "The poor dragon tired to protect him, even then. But they massacred that as well. Professor McGonagall wouldn't even let me see Charlie's body." She finished in a rush, the unspoken implication obvious to Harry.

He reached over and pulled Ginny down onto his bed holding her tight. "I saw Moody and Tonks hit," he started, not wanting to hurt Ginny further, but desperate for some good news.

"Both dead," wailed Ginny. "When Tonks was hit, Professor Lupin left Greyback and blasted her attackers." As Ginny paused, Harry squeezed her tighter and opened his mouth, intending to ask about his former teacher. But before he could speak, Ginny continued very hesitantly. "That left Dad fighting that … that werewolf by himself. He … he … Shacklebolt said he didn't suffer very much."

"I'll kill the …" started Harry

"No you won't, love. Bill already has. Professor McGonagall said the wolf in him snapped, and he was incredible. She said Bill saved all their lives tonight. It just wasn't soon enough for Dad." Harry tried his best to console his girlfriend, and eventually he and Ginny cried themselves to sleep, still in each others arms.

They didn't stir when Molly Weasley, supported by eldest son Bill, put her head round the curtains. Molly was about to scold Ginny, when she remembered herself curling up asleep with Arthur, the night her elder brothers Fabien and Gideon were killed in the first war against Voldemort. The memory of Arthur brought a fresh wave of tears and she backed away from the bed.

A few hours before dawn, Harry stirred to find himself staring into Dobby's large eyes, "Harry Potter must come with me, see his wolfie." Harry looked uncomprehendingly at the house-elf as he struggled to wake up. Dobby was insistent and after repeating himself several times without any results, tried to drag Harry out of bed. Reluctantly he allowed himself to be untangled from Ginny and he followed the elf across the hospital wing to another bed, where Remus Lupin lay, a deathly looking grey.

"Remus what happened? Arthur wasn't you fault." cried Harry rushing over to his former Professor's side.

"Wormtail's got me with his sodding silver hand." Harry looked confused.

"Any contact with silver is a fatal poison to a werewolf," explained Lupin, as if he was once again teaching Harry. "He sneaked up on me when I was duelling."

"But Madam Pomfrey, surely she can save you?"

"No there is nothing that can be done," sighed Lupin in a resigned voice. As Harry jumped up to protest, Lupin silenced him and he continued "No, I haven't long left. Today we won. We fought and destroyed Voldemort's entire army. He had less than twenty Death Eaters left when it ended. Bill was fantastic; I haven't seen anyone duel like that since Albus. He must have killed dozens of them." Remus paused and coughed violently before continuing. "I saw Voldemort skulking around outside, afraid to face Fred and George of all people. Did you know George snapped his wand? Voldemort was furious, he knew you'd killed his snake, he screamed Nagini and apparated away. Now you've got all the Horcruxes you go and kill him."

Harry gulped, but fortunately Lupin didn't notice. "Albus always said this wasn't our war, and it was time to pass the Order onto the younger generation. Well I'm proud of what I saw today, and I can move on knowing this world is safe the hands of you and your friends. Get Voldemort and Peter for me, Tonks, Sirius, James, Hagrid, Alistor and all the rest. The loss of an old wolf like me is worth it to give you, Ginny, Ron and Hermione the opportunity to live free."

Harry didn't have the heart to disillusion his mentor, about the Horcrux, he just reached out and held his friend's hand until Remus's life slipped away from him. As it did Harry thought about what had happened. He'd brought them all here to fight for him, and it had cost them their lives and for what? Voldemort was still alive and he still had a ruddy Horcrux. Everyone he'd ever got close to ended up dead. Well that was it, never again. His mind made up, Harry released Remus's limp hand and strode down the hospital wing with a renewed purpose, not even pausing to say goodbye to Ginny, who was still sleeping in his hospital bed.

He glanced at Hermione's bed as he passed. Ron was dozing in a chair keeping a vigil. Luna had climbed into the next door bed and was snuggling the recovering Neville. They were all he had left, and he was damn well going to keep them safe, and the safest place was well away from him, and hence Voldemort. As Harry reached the far door he had to wait for Madame Pomfrey who was holding out Mrs Norris the cat to Filch.

"I've removed the blockage Argus, she'll be fine, just take care what you feed her, no more of these!" Madame Pomfrey dropped a small silver paw into Filch's outstretched palm. "Mr Potter where do you think you are going?"

"It's Remus, he's … he's dead." Madame Pomfrey gave Harry a pittying look and tore off down her ward. Harry didn't look behind him as he left the hospital wing alone. Once clear of Hogwarts gates he apparated outside of Grimmauld Place, walked in through the door of number twelve and climbed up to his room. Once there he searched through his trunk, which took a while due to the huge pile of Ollivander's wands which were currently filling his room. Eventually Harry located the deeds to Godric's Hollow, noted its location, turned and walked out of the most noble and ancient House of Black, apparating as soon as he reached the pavement.

Harry found himself stood on a deserted hillside in Wales, next to a sheep. The sheep took one look at Harry, bleated in fright and shot across the field. All the sheep from the surrounding area instinctively ran together forming a protective clump away from him, frightening most of the birds and other wildlife in the process. So much for an unobtrusive approach, thought Harry, can't say I blame the sheep though for not having anything to do with me. If it did it would probably wind up dead.

Harry tried to concentrate on his surroundings as a way to block the memories of the battle. The hillside he was on sloped gently downwards into a narrow valley, dotted here and there were decaying stone walls, showing up like pencil lines. The grass here was short and burned brown, due in part to the sheep and in part the recent dry weather. The valley was very narrow with what looked like a stream meandering its way along the bottom. The opposing hillside rose steeply up from the valley floor. It was far more rugged and was covered in large, ancient oak trees. Harry looked away to his left, to the point where the two hills merged as one and the valley ended. There, according to his deeds, near a small waterfall stood the remains of Godric's Hollow. He couldn't see anything from here and briefly wondered if it could be protected from the fidelius charm, until he remembered that the wizard who held the secret was now dead. The thought of Mrs Norris eating Wormtail almost succeeded in bringing a small smile to his lips.

Harry shook his head to get back to the task at hand, and started to trek down the hillside towards the spot he hoped would contain his parents' house. As he got closer, he could see an area of very overgrown rhododendron bushes, nothing like Aunt Petunia's neatly trimmed ones and a tall, wild conifer hedge. The house had to be behind those. Harry broke out into a jog, and finally rounded the end conifer. In front of him he saw what remained of his parents' house.

He guessed that originally it had been a comfortable, two story farmhouse. It was built out of the same heavy looking stone that was used for the small livestock walls which he'd seen dotted about the hillside. One end of the house had completely fallen down, the other remained upright, covered with, and more likely supported by, thick ivy. There were even a few old slates still left on the roof at this point, balancing precariously on a heavily rotted and listing oak beam. The front wall of the house tapered away from being almost complete, and ivy covered at one end, to a pile of bare bricks at the other. A large, irregular hole stood in the centre of this wall. Harry noticed the stone around this hole was charred black. This must have been where the front door stood, where Voldemort blasted his way in, he thought breaking into a cold sweat. Harry fought his way towards the hole, through the overgrown rhododendrons, which were growing in what would have been his parents' front garden.

In his haste to get to the front door Harry didn't notice the obscured garden pond until he fell, face first into it. Annoyed with himself he got to his feet and cast Dumbledore's drying charm on his robes. He looked down to see where it was safe to tread and spotted, a sole white lily, floating on the now uncovered water. Harry carefully stepped around both the lily and the pond and made it without further incident to the hole where the front door had stood. Any thoughts of entering the house from here disappeared, as he found that the upper floor and roof had collapsed inwards. His route was barred by a mass of stone and broken beams. Harry decided to try and find a backdoor and inched his way round the good end of the building.

The ivy was very thick round here, covering everything. He found that he had to pull it away just to make any progress. As he tugged at one particularly stubborn piece, a large, upright piece of slate was uncovered. Harry could just about make out something carved into it, so he grabbed an armful of his robes and tried to rub the slate clean uncovering;

In loving memory of

James Potter (1958 - 1981)

Always a marauder,

Prongs will ride forever in our memories.

Also his beloved wife

Lily Potter (1958 - 1981).

Her eyes will shine brightly for all eternity.

Both will be greatly missed.

Harry sank to his knees in front of his parents' grave and wept. He had no idea how long he knelt there, as he poured his heart out to his parents. He told them all that happened, all that had gone wrong and how it had been his fault.

Suddenly he heard a very real voice, "It is not your fault, Harry. You did not kill them Voldemort and the Death Eaters did." Harry stood and turned to see Ginny standing angrily behind him, hands on hips, her flaming red hair glinting against the sun light. It was possibly the most beautiful thing that Harry had ever seen.

"Harry Potter," said Ginny angrily. "You have done nothing but good. You have fought Voldemort, you have shown he can be beaten, you have given us all hope and most of all ... most of all I love you!" Ginny strode over to Harry and grabbed him, pulling him into a big kiss and hug which ended with them both shedding tears. The tender moment was interrupted as it so often is in Wales, by heavy spots of rain. Harry reluctantly let got of Ginny and looked at the house wall. Another few strides through this ivy and they would be able to see the back of the house which was set deep into the ancient hillside. They both set about clearing a path.

"How did you find me here?" asked Harry. For a reply Ginny reached in her pocket and pulled out the crumpled chocolate frog card that Harry had discarded in anger. Dumbledore winked at Harry. With Ginny's help the ivy soon yielded, and together, they found themselves staring at the rotten back-door to Godric's Hollow.

Harry gently turned the handle, but the old door gave up the unequal struggle and fell forwards into the house. The ceiling at this end was still just intact, held up by the outer wall, although it was leaning badly as the interior dividing walls had collapsed under the weight of the roof. Harry thought they were in what once could have been a hallway, as there were no visible windows. The carpet that had lain underfoot had rotted years ago into a slimy mess, a legacy of the house being open to the elements. The wallpaper was damp and peeling off the walls, covered in patches of unpleasant fungal growth. A long-deserted small birds nest balanced, precariously out of an alcove in the wall, but most striking of all was a large oil painting. Although badly damaged, where paint had flaked off and the canvas had rotted, Harry could still recognise the back drop as being Hogwarts. In the foreground on the lawn was a very pretty red haired lady. She wore a beautiful flowing dress, and appeared to be sleeping uncomfortably on a purple cushion.

"Hello," said Ginny tentatively, "Who are you?"

The woman woke with a start. "Who am I? You do not recognise me, Rowena Ravenclaw founder of Hogwarts."

"Ravenclaw? What are you doing in Godric's Hollow?" asked Harry.

"Where else would I be, but in my lovers ancestral home? Stupid boy! Godric's painting hung at the other end of the house, but it's long gone, ever since that evil descendant of Salazar killed young James and … Merlin's beard!, you must be their child. Young Harry isn't it?"

Harry was by now speechless, so Ginny asked the painting how she knew. "Apart from looking just like James and having Lily's eyes you mean? Well, Godric and his descendants have always had a penchant for taking gorgeous redheads as lovers. Looks like something's never ever change." The portrait winked saucily at Harry and made a suggestive gesture with her ornate wand.

Harry's indignant reply died on his lips as he recalled where he had seen that wand before. In the window of Ollivander's shop, perched on the same, albeit faded, cushion that Rowena herself was now sat on. "The missing Horcrux," he breathed, "I wonder?"

"Hey! Where are you going? Come back I haven't had anyone to talk to for years. It's lonely in here," complained the portrait as Harry dashed out into the rain. He paused by the pond and picked the lily, returning to place it carefully on his parents' grave. This allowed Ginny time to catch up with him and demand an explanation.

"Stop, I'm not letting you run away from me ever again, Harry."

Harry grabbed Ginny's hand, side-apparating her back to Grimmauld Place. They sneaked into number twelve unheard. Everyone appeared to be in the living room attending an Order meeting judging by the dissenting noises coming from behind the closed door. Still holding hands they dashed upstairs to Harry's room which remained full of the wands he had banished from Little Hangleton. Harry delved into the pile as Ginny looked on in confusion, until he triumphantly came out holding the very same ornate wand that they had just seen Rowena hold in the painting. Harry threw Ravenclaw's wand on the floor, drew his own wand and cast the killing curse, much to Ginny's shock. The wand snapped clean in half, its unicorn hair shattering and with a pained scream, the familiar dark mist rose into the air.

Harry turned to Ginny who asked, "Was that a Horcrux?"

"Yes, the final one?"

"So you're going to leave me now to go ... go and kill him aren't you?" Harry nodded as Ginny started to cry.

"I'm sorry Ginny, I can't take you. Knowing you were there would make me worried, and quite possibly distracted. But don't worry I'll be alright, I've got something to live for now; you."

Ginny tried to put on a brave face, as she nodded, "Go on." Harry turned and opened his bedroom door coming face to face with Fawkes the Phoenix. Fawkes hopped onto his shoulder and softly started singing an uplifting Phoenix song. Ginny watched as her boyfriend walked out the door, his new pet on his shoulder. Although Harry and Fawkes cut an imposing presence as they descended the stairs, Ginny was petrified, in case Harry was marching to his death. How could her poor, vulnerable Harry, hope to defeat the most powerful wizard ever in a straight duel. As Harry disappeared from sight, she slowly sank onto the bed in tears. As she cried and pounded away in frustration at the mattress, her hands closed around Harry's invisibility cloak.

"Look Snape has risked his life to tell us they are having a meeting now, this is the chance we need to press home our advantage. We can't just give up now. Voldemort is down to one Horcrux and less than twenty followers. If we stand here dithering, doing nothing we will be right back where we started. We should go to his poxy hideout and drive the bastard out of the country. My brothers here have beaten him in a duel once and we'll do it again." roused Bill Weasley.

"No, we should wait for the Ministry to…"

"The Ministry have known for the last three years where he has been hiding and they have done nothing. They wouldn't even acknowledge he existed for a year! Do you think they'll start fighting him now, when the auror force has been decimated, and the Minister, himself, killed?"

Harry took a deep breath and threw the door open as he marched to the front of the room with Fawkes, trilling merrily on his shoulder. The effect of his entrance was amplified as the door slammed menacingly behind him. He looked around the room as he waited for the shocked gasps to settle down. He could see the twins, McGonagall, Aberforth, Hestia Jones, Dedalus Diggle and a few others he didn't recognise, but it wasn't them he looked at, it was the empty chairs of those who were missing that caused Harry to almost fail, but he drew courage, thinking of Ginny, and turned to Bill.

"You're wrong, Bill. Voldemort has no Horcruxes left." Harry placed the two broken halves of Ravenclaw's wand on the table. "Otherwise I agree with everything you said. We attack immediately. Fred, George do you have anything you can use to create a diversion?"

"Funny you should ask," replied Fred placing a stuffed toy cat on the table. Harry raised his eyebrows, "Sneezing Kneazle!" announced Fred. "It's based on a Muggle radio-controlled toy." He stopped seeing the blank looks of the others present. "Look I won't explain it here, but trust me it will work."

"We've also got one of these for everybody," George produced a key ring shaped like a fish. "It's a hexed halibut, contains neat Gillyweed sap, courtesy of Neville. On contact with skin, the person will grow gills and will only be able to breathe underwater. It lasts for about ten minutes or so. You should have seen Fred when I got him the other day, had to shove his head down the toilet he did."

"Ok, you guys create the diversion. Everyone else takes on as many Death Eaters as possible, while Fawkes and I are going straight for Voldemort." Nobody thought to contradict Harry; such was his air of authority. The meeting broke up and they all trouped out of the house and prepared to apparate to Little Hangleton. Had Harry looked up the staircase when he passed, he would have noticed Ginny hastily winding up an extendable ear, which she shoved in her pocket along with his invisibility cloak.

As a disillusioned Harry watched Fred's Kneazles sneak lifelike across the garden, even he had to admit that the Death Eaters had done a fantastic job in repairing the Riddle House. There were barely any signs remaining of the previous day's battle. His thoughts were broken as a jet of red light struck a Kneazle, it toppled over.

"Nice shot buddy," came a voice and a group of Death Eaters shimmered into sight as they bent over to examine the Kneazle.

"Can we eat it?" asked one optimistically. As the others looked incredulously at their colleague Fred pressed a small red button his radio-control unit and the Kneazle sneezed, expelling a powdery gas.

"'Ere it gobbed on me, Achhooo!" sneezed a Death Eater. Within seconds all the group were rolling around sneezing uncontrollably. Bill, Ron and Harry wasted no time in diving in to stun the incapacitated Death Eaters. However the noise of the sneezing attracted the attention of all the others and they came streaming out of the house. The next batch fell victim to another of Fred's strategically placed, sneezing powder filled, Kneazles.

In the ensuing confusion Harry sneaked in through the door and immediately found himself on the floor, wandless and bound in ropes, as Amicus called out, "_Incarcius, Expelliarmus." _

Cursing his carelessness, Harry struggled to sit up as he once again came face to face with a stream of green light. As he had done for his previous master, Fawkes dived down, opened his beak and swallowed the killing curse whole. He fell lifeless next to Harry and burst into flames. The flames burned through the ropes which bound Harry's left hand, allowing him enough movement to reach into his pocket and aim the key ring at his captor. Amicus gulped and opened and shut his mouth in panic, he ran his hands behind his ears finding a pair of gills. As he slowly turned blue he turned to run, but too late, Harry was already holding his own wand and felled the Death Eater with a stunner. Harry quickly turned, hearing a noise behind him but again he was a fraction too late.

"_Crucio_," bellowed Voldemort. Harry felt the familiar pain begin, but with thoughts of his love for Ginny, he somehow forced his Occlumency shields to strengthen and he concentrated hard. As his eyes focused he noticed a fleeting look of surprise tinged with a hint of fear cross Voldemort's face. This gave Harry new hope and strength and he threw off the curse and launched a barrage of spells at the Evil Wizard.

Voldemort deflected or dodged them all, often vanishing with a swish of his cloak. Harry had a harder job dodging or blocking. Voldemorts spells were so powerful, each one that connected with his shield reverberating with a loud gong, which caused great shockwaves to travel through Harry's body. However, he noted, that they were not as powerful as they had been in the Ministry last year when Voldemort had fought Dumbledore. Maybe it was because Voldemort was weaker or maybe it was because he was using someone else's wand.

Finding a second wind Harry tried '_sectumsempra_' which caught Voldemort on the leg, as he mistimed his jump. Voldemort looked in shock at his cut leg, but soon recovered to block Harry's next cutting hex. Fury emanated from the Dark Lord as he seemed to put his all into the next curse.

Harry felt himself blown backwards as Voldemort's retaliatory stunner hit his shield. He regained his balance as quickly as possible and turned casting _stupify_ as Voldemort appeared behind him, doing the same. The spells hit in mid air and exploded blowing both men off their feet. Harry was protected slightly due to his still reverberating shield, and with glee noticed Voldemort was still on ground as he, himself struggled to his knees.

For the first time in his life, Harry knew he was going to win, he and Ginny were going to have a happily ever after. "_Avada Kedavra_," Harry called and watched as the jet of green light stuck Voldemort cleanly in the chest, and then rebounded towards himself. Harry dived out of the way of his own spell, just avoiding it, as it smashed into the wall behind him. He tried to get to his feet but felt his wand slip agonisingly through his fingers, as his hands suddenly became bound behind his back once more. He looked up in confusion to see Voldemort's evil red eyes glaring at him from across the room, as the evil wizard struggled painfully to his feet.

How could Voldemort have survived the curse? Harry mentally counted off the Horcruxes they'd destroyed; the diary, ring, locket, cup, staff and wand. That should have been all of them. Six Horcruxes, giving a magical seven splits of the soul.

"So you thought you could kill me, Harry Potter? Did you really think that you, a mere child, could destroy the most powerful wizard of all time? I've taken steps to ensure my immortality. Did you know that Harry?"

Voldemort laughed, at his rhetorical question. "Of course you didn't. If you knew that I had created seven Horcruxes, you would have destroyed them, wouldn't you? Little Harry."

Harry struggled futilely against his bindings, as his nemesis taunted him. "_Legillimens"_This time, Harry was unable to stop the memories of the destroyed Horcruxes coming to the front of his mind, before he was able to repel the Dark Lord.

Voldemort took a second to compose himself, before replying. "Impressive, Harry. But I only counted six in your memories. There is still one Horcrux, which you can not destroy, without killing yourself." Harry looked confused. "You see, Harry, it is ironic that my biggest mistake, has saved my life today. Sixteen years ago when I created your scar, I accidentally put a little piece of my soul inside of you. But I think that piece has served it purpose now, and its time to destroy it."

Voldemort steadied his hand and pointed it at Harry's head and screamed the killing curse. It was almost like slow motion, as the curse flew through the air inching towards him, until it was mere feet away, when it disappeared. Before Harry could register what had happened, there was a thump in front of him, and an invisibility cloak fell back revealing the face of Ginny Weasley; a face which was turned to look at him; a face which was frozen with a mixture of love and surprise. Harry closed his eyes and waited for Voldemort to kill him. He knew that he was going to die and he welcomed it. He had nothing left to live for.


	13. Obliviate

**Chapter 13 - Obliviate**

"My Lord, we can't hold them any more, you must leave for your own safety. Harry barely registered Snape as he entered the room. "Sweet Merlin what's happened to you? Quick, my Lord, apparate to Malfoy Manor, Narcissa will take care of you. I'll stay and finish off Potter."

"Thank you, Severus. You alone are my most trusted servant."

Harry heard a swish and then silence, followed by Snape calling, "_Finite incantatem_, _Enervate_. Potter, get up."

Harry reluctantly opened his eyes and staggered over to Ginny, he pulled his wand out and weakly cast "_Enervate_," but nothing happened. He couldn't take it any more, his only reason for living was now gone, and he was the only reason Voldemort was still living. He collapsed on top of Ginny's body screaming until he blacked out.

When Harry came round it was in a dark, dank, smelly dungeon. It took him a few seconds to recognise that he was actually in the potions dungeon at Hogwarts. Snape was stood a few yards away, huddled over a cauldron stirring away while counting under his breath. "Five, six, seven and once anti-clockwise. One, two, three …"

Harry could see a strange purple mist rising from the potion as he struggled to his feet to get a closer look. It was then that the memories of what had happened in the Riddle House returned and he collapsed back on the floor and started weeping for Ginny.

After a couple of minutes Snape came over. "Get up, Potter," he said in a kinder voice than normal, but his eyes were still boring through Harry as usual. After staring at him for a few uncomfortable seconds, Snape added, "You've been practicing Occlumency?"

Harry nodded as Snape continued as if not expecting an answer. "I need you to let me see a memory. I can't get through your shields without hurting..."

"Never," replied Harry but things were starting to go black again, with the effort of keeping Snape out of his mind. The next time he opened his eyes he saw that his former teacher had fetched a pensieve; Harry's own pensieve.

"How did you get that?" asked Harry weakly.

"There's no fidelius charm on here or Grimmauld Place anymore. Now I need to see the memory of when Voldemort attacked you as a baby."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, "Why? Just kill me now, then go and get Voldemort."

"I need to see that memory. Just put it in the pensieve, you don't have to watch it."

Harry gave up, and drew the silver memory strand from his head and placed it, swirling into his pensieve. He looked apprehensively over the edge, but Snape had already gone in, so he joined him. Harry saw for the first time, what he had heard every time a Dementor came near him. He saw his mother stand up to Voldemort, then he saw her die. Voldemort turned to baby Harry and drew the sorting hat from his robes.

"Isn't that the Hogwart's...?" said the Death Eater next to him.

"Yes Wormtail. The death of Harry Potter will create my seventh and most magically powerful Horcrux. You see, not only is this hat Godric Gryffindor's, but this baby is his last remaining descendant too. These facts combined, will make this Horcrux almost indestructible. Also this will break that infernal prophecy, and will corrupt every student that goes to Hogwarts from now on."

"My Lord, I'm in awe of your cunning. Such a masterful plan, but tell me, how did you get it out from under that meddling Dumbledore's nose?"

"The Muggle loving fool does not realise that access to his own office is granted to direct descendants of the castles founders. I, the heir of Salazar Slytherin, walked in earlier while he was in Hogsmeade with his goat breeding brother. Now stand back, Wormtail." Voldemort raised his wand pointed it at his heart and shouted, "_Secovita_". Then he turned pointed it at Harry's head and called "_Avada Kedavra_"

Harry watched as the jet of green light rebounded off his baby self and hit Voldemort. A fine black mist rose from Voldemort, and travelled back down the path of the killing curse and entered baby Harry's head.

Wormtail jumped in shock and called out to Voldemort frantically, "Master, Master … What has happened to you?"

There was a distant roar that Harry recognised as Sirius's motorcycle. As the roar got louder it was evident that Wormtail recognised it as well, because he grabbed the sorting hat and disapparated. Harry felt faint and was grateful when Snape pulled him back out of the memory and into the present.

"Do you know the processes involved in the creation of a Horcrux or do I have to go to the hospital wing and ask Miss Granger?"

Harry nodded weakly, "Bill saw it in Egypt. He explained it to me. First you split your soul, then you murder someone, this links your soul to the death, then you place your soul in the object. So Voldemort only managed half the spell, he divided his soul, but didn't cast the spell to put it in the Sorting Hat."

"Correct; 10 points to Gryffindor. As the spell was incomplete, the Horcrux found its own receptacle, you."

"But ... I didn't die, so how could a Horcrux have been created?"

"Think Potter, Voldemort's body was killed, his soul was forced from it. He created a Horcrux using his own death."

"So what! The fact remains I'm a Horcrux, and in order to kill him, I need to die."

"If he had used Lily or your Father's death then yes, but as he used his own, I believe he created a very weak Horcrux. It was his seventh split, so he could only have placed a very small part of his soul in your body. Despite being a mediocre wizard Potter, you do not show the Dark Lord's evil tendencies and, in fact are less inclined to Dark magic than your father was."

Although he still wanted to hex him, Harry felt this was as close to a compliment that Snape would ever grant him. "Before the Ministry had Azkaban, offenders were given this potion," Snape waved his arm at the purple concoction which was still bubbling in the cauldron. "It removes all magic from the drinker and purifies the soul, clean of all evil. The wizard was then cast out of the magical society to live out his life as a Muggle. As much as it pains me to admit it, your soul is relatively pure whereas Voldemort's Horcrux is deeply evil, and was created using very advanced magic. So I think this might just work."

"Great, my choice is to die or live like a squib, like Filch? Life's just not fair, why me?"

"Life isn't fair Potter, but at least you will have a life. That is something I can never have. I am, after all, the cold-blooded murderer of Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard that ever lived. You on the other hand will be famous for defeating the most evil wizard that ever lived."

"I don't want fame, I want Ginny..."

Snape didn't say anything, but instead bent over the cauldron and filled a large glass beaker. He turned and as he handed it over, Harry could see tears were running down his face. "Bloody stuff gets in your eyes," said Snape not very convincingly as he pulled out a hanky.

Harry turned away from Snape and looked at the stores cupboard. As he held the beaker to his lips, he thought about what he was sacrificing for the world. It had to be done so Ron and Hermione, Neville and Luna, the twins and all the others like them could live without the fear of Voldemort in their lives. Harry briefly thought about the consequences, he would never cast a spell again, ride a broom, play quidditch or even see a magical building such as Hogwarts. Did he really want to live like that? No, he didn't. He caught sight of his reflection in the glass front of the cupboard and an idea formed in his mind. Harry dug deep in the pockets of his robes searching for the things he had picked up in Muggle East London, when he felt his hands close on the fake passport he shut his eyes, concentrated very hard, and then drank the potion.

At first nothing happened then Harry felt as if his head was splitting in two. He couldn't breathe he opened his mouth and screamed, a dull, distant ear-splitting scream that came from Voldemort's soul. Harry dropped the beaker and fell to his knees as a black mist was expelled from his mouth. He opened his eyes and although he didn't want to, he forced himself to look at his reflection in the cabinet's glass front. A devastated looking Joseph Rattyear looked back at him. Harry got to his feet and turned to look at Snape who was standing in shock, "Mr Joseph Rattyear, pleased to meet you," Harry extended his hand and showed Snape the passport. "I am ...was a Metamorphmagus."

Snape was silent for a second. "Very clever Potter, why you weren't sorted into Slytherin I will never know."

"The hat wanted to, I asked it not to," replied Harry. He concentrated on his appearance for a second willing himself to change back into Harry, but nothing happened. Harry raised his wand, thought hard about Ginny and cried "Expecto Patronum", nothing. He looked around to try something simpler and spotting the broken beaker called out desperately, "reparo." Again nothing at all happened. His own wand, once so comfortable, felt foreign to touch. He turned away from Snape and with tears running down his cheeks, searched in his robes once again, this time bringing out Dudley's sun-glasses, which he used to cover the last trace of Harry Potter, his mother's eyes.

Suddenly Snape jumped and clutched his right arm, "He's summoning me, he must have felt the Horcrux die. We have to be quick. Put this on." Snape threw the invisibility cloak over Harry, and dragged him out of Hogwarts. Once clear of the gates, Snape side-apparated Harry to Malfoy Manor and knocked on the door.

Harry was surprised that Narcissa Malfoy opened it herself. "Severus, the Dark lord awaits you. You killed the Potter brat then?"

Snape nodded and as she turned to lead the way he cast in quick succession, "_Silencio, Sectumsempra_." Narcissa Malfoy fell to the ground, blood streaming from deep open cuts, her mouth open in a silent scream. Snape spat on her as he led Harry into the house.

"Severus, my loyal servant, well done for ridding me of the boy. My soul, it felt him die."

Snape nodded and prostrated himself in front of Voldemort. "My Lord and most esteemed master I will serve you forever."

"You lie, you … you traitor." screamed Voldemort, his voice much higher and harsher. Snape looked up in surprise. "Do you think I'm stupid, I know Narcissa is this minute dieing by the door, I felt two of you apparate through the wards. The boy is here, how did you do it? _Crucio!_"

Snape's whole body shook in pain, but he defiantly stared back at Voldemort who changed tack, "_Legilimens ..."_

A battle of will ensued with Voldemort alternatively casting the cruciatus curse and using legilimancy to try and wear Snape down. In turn Snape remained bowed in front of Voldemort, shaking in pain, but staying resolutely silent. Eventually Voldemort broke through Snape's shields and gave a hollow laugh, "My, my, Thiefsbane potion, who would have thought."

Snape smiled up at Voldemort, "Just so you know, Tom, I am Dumbledore's man through and through. _ Expelliarmus_!" Voldemort just managed to keep hold of his wand, as it started slipping through his fingers. By the time he had regained a good enough grip on it, Snape had clambered back on to his feet, and was stood in the traditional duelling position with his wand drawn.**  
**

Time and time again Snape anticipated the spell as Voldemort cast it, each time taking avoiding action. Harry stood rooted to the spot in fascination, but in his squib state there was little he could have done. What Snape lacked in duelling skills, was more than made up by his ability to read Voldemort's mind and pre-empt any spells which were fired his way. As Harry watched Voldemort become increasingly more frustrated by his former allies actions, an idea formed in his mind. Slowly, so as not to attract any attention, Harry reached under his robes but was distracted by a shout and thump. He looked up to see that Voldemort was standing over Snape holding both wands.

"I believe this was one of your favourite spells, Severus, _Sectumsempra_."

Snape screamed, as deep cuts appeared stretching the whole length of his body from head to toe. As Harry watched Snape's robes turned from bottle green to red, awash with blood.

"I know you're here Harry Potter. I may not be able to see you, but I can sense you under that cloak. How does it feel to be helpless now, like a dirty Muggle? This time there is no-one left to save your pathetic Muggle skin. My followers have killed them all from that muggle-loving fool to the disgusting flee-bitten mongrel. There is nothing you can do to stop me now. _Accio_ Cloak"

Harry felt his invisibility cloak fly from his body and into Voldemort's outstretched hand. Voldemort looked at Harry in surprise for a couple of seconds, trying to figure out why he looked like a Muggle biker. Before he had chance to recover and cast a spell, Lord Voldemort staggered backwards, as blood started dripping from a small round hole in the middle of his abnormally large-forehead. Harry fired the revolver a second and then a third time causing two more holes to appear, this time in his chest.

"Noooooooo," Voldemort screamed as he fell backwards, one hand clutching his head, the other his heart. This desperate act couldn't stop the, now familiar, black mist from escaping out of the bullet hole and between his bloodied fingers. The final part of Voldemort's soul had been destroyed.

"Well done, Pot-ter", Harry turned to Snape, who was gasping for breath.

"Hold on Professor, I'll get help, I'll take you to St Mungo's. Harry grabbed his wand, and then looked at it usefully as he realised he could no longer use it.

"No, I'm a killer, a wanted man. I want to die here, not in Az-zkaban. I've made my peace with this world. H-H-Harr-y, give me your wand."

Harry passed Snape his own wand and watched as his former Professor struggled to his knees and crawled towards Voldemorts body. When he was next to Riddle, he turned to Harry.

"I vowed to Dumbledore that I would pro-tect you. This is the best protection I can of-ffer you now. I'm too much of a coward." Snape raised Harry's wand into the air and screamed, "_INCENDIO!"_ As a huge orange fireball engulfed both him and Riddles body, Snape threw the wand clear. Harry could only look on, without magic he was powerless to do anything. But for the first time in his life he felt respect for Severus Snape. Instinctively he bent down and picked up his wand, and watched as the bodies of two very powerful and very different wizards were burned to ashes.

Before long Harry heard the unmistakable pops of apparating wizards behind him and he smoothed his long, dirty-blonde hair down to hide his scar, as he turned to face them, a look of fake surprise etched on his face.

Harry looked across the room at the auror and began to explain what had happened. "I was walking by when I heard the noise and saw the flashes and went to investigate see, worried someone was breaking in, such a fine house an all. I saw it all through the window. At first I thought it was an illusion like that David Copperfield bloke on television.

The boy, this Harry Potter you say, was swearing at the other guy. He kept calling him an 'ass hole' then he waved his stick thingy and objects would fly from everywhere and appear right in front of him. The old bloke was shouting 'Abra kadabra' and green flashes were coming from his err stick whatsit and hitting the objects the boy was moving causing 'em to explode.

The boy weren't giving up though, he kept moving closer and closer to the old guy and finally this massive fireball thing appeared. I'd never seen nothing like it in all of my born days. Well there was no way either of 'em could have survived, burned to a crisp they was."

"You saw them die then, Mr Ratty-ear?" asked the auror.

"Yes and its Ratt-year thank you. They was burned to a cinder they was, horrible smell, burning flesh is, right disgusting it were to. I ran in the house, t' see if I could help, I did. There's a dead woman by the door did you know? Reckon they was fighting over her I do. Anyway I did find the boy's stick thing it was thrown clear when they exploded in flames. I've got it here in my pocket." Having made his decision Harry handed over his wand.

Harry knew they would obliviate his memory of the last few days before they let him go, but it didn't worry him too much, they were memories he didn't really want to relive again. As it was he knew he would never be able to sleep again, the memory of Ginny's death was so firmly etched on his mind. How could life be so cruel? He'd saved the wizarding world, done everything that was ever asked of him. In return all he wanted was a simple life and a family of his own. But that, it seemed, was too much to ask for and instead he'd lost everything he ever wanted in his life. Perhaps Snape had had the right idea and he should have ended it then and there.

Harry wasn't even too worried about turning his back on the wizarding community. After all he could seek out his closest friends and let them know the truth about his Muggle identity. He wouldn't want them to suffer too much. Then given time, when things had died down he would re-integrate himself back into the magical community.

It had to be better than the alternative, being Harry Potter, 'The-boy-who-killed-he-who-must-not-be-named.' It had been bad enough being 'the-boy-who-lived' but things would be worse now. He would be mobbed everywhere he went, they would erect statues and memorials to him. There would probably even celebrate a Harry Bloody Potter day on his birthday. Numerous biographies would be written about him, with reporters following his every move. It had started already, even some bloody Muggle called J K Rowling was writing about him. No he wanted people to like him for being plain Harry, or maybe that should be Joseph, and not for what he'd done.

"Thank you for your help Mr Ratt-year. The hospital will release you tomorrow and then you'll be able to go home." With this the Auror walked out of the door, closing it behind him. He shook his head, he never liked these sort of jobs; interviewing and obliviating Muggles, it never seemed right really. Never mind, it could be worse, he thought, as he waited for his colleague to finish in the next room. "How did it go? Has she come round yet? He asked as another auror appeared.

His colleague, who looked very pale almost on the verge of being physically sick, nodded his head slowly as if too afraid to open his mouth while he fought to keep the contents of his stomach under control.

"Did you find out how she survived?"

"Yeah, poor girl. She was pregnant you know? The curse hit her in the belly, directly in the womb and the poor mite took the full force of it. The healers think that when the baby died her body shut down as a sort of survival instinct."

"Merlin! No way."

"There's more, she was Harry Potter's girl friend, and she dived in front of the curse meant for him."

"Great Godric! Will she survive?"

"The healers say she will, although it's unlikely that she'll be able to have any children. I have my doubts though. I don't think she's got the will power to pull through, and she doesn't even know what happened yet. I hadn't got the heart to tell her that Harry Potter had died anyway despite her sacrifice. Come on let's go to the Leaky Cauldron. After this I need a firewhiskey or six, and you can tell me how You-know-who was finally killed."

Harry woke as the auror appeared in his room early the following morning looking a little worse for wear. "What are you doing?" asked Harry keeping up a pretence, as the auror prepared to cast a memory charm.

"We're just going to erase your memory of wizardkind," he replied.

"Wizardkind?" queried Harry pretending to be baffled.

"Yes this spell will wipe your memory of every interaction you've ever had with a wizard and replace it with normal Muggle … err human memories."

"Every interaction with a wizard?" asked Harry suddenly panicking "But you can't … NO! STOP! DON…"

"OBLIVIATE" shouted the auror. In casting this one simple spell, the auror achieved in a second what Lord Voldemort had failed to do in eighteen years. He wiped Harry James Potter from the face of the wizarding world.


	14. Epilogue

**Chapter 14 - Epilogue**

"_You'd better hope and pray,_

_That you'll make it safe back to your own world._

_You'd better hope and pray,_

_That you'll wake one day in your own world._

_Because when you sleep at night_

_They don't hear your cries back in your own world_

_Only time will tell_

_If you can break the spell back in your own world_

_Stay with me, ooohhhooo, Stay with me"_

"Its four minutes past six and I'm Tim Clarke, here with you for the next four hours on the breakfast show. That was Shakespeare's Sisters with Stay from back in 1992, and now …"

Joseph Rattyear hit the snooze button on his combined radio-alarm clock and, not for the first time wondered what his life had meant. It had been very eventful for sure. He had been orphaned as a baby and had grown up in various care homes and foster families, or at least that's what he half remembered. Unfortunately when he'd tried to research it, the records had been lost due to frequent changes of computer systems. Joseph wished he could find out something more concrete about his past and his parents; after all he had inherited a small fortune from them.

His own memory wasn't very good either. His early teenage years seemed to be filled with gaps and inconsistencies. He guessed he must have tried a few too many hallucinogenic substances in his youth. Joseph thought these may also explain some of the weird nightmares he still occasionally had, especially the one involving him slaying a giant snake like creature with King Arthur's Excalibur sword in an underground cavern!

But the loss of his parents and childhood weren't the only tragedies in Joseph's life, his beautiful wife Julie had died recently. She had contracted an infection in the hospital after going in for a routine operation to remove a troublesome wisdom tooth. This was something that Joseph felt particularly guilty about, as he hadn't even been with her when she passed away. He'd been abroad playing for the England team.

Joseph looked around the London home that he shared with his 11-year-old daughter, Lily and his 10-year-old son, James. It seemed so empty without Julie. She had been the rock that held the family together, the sensible one who blocked his hair-brained schemes. In short she was his everything. Now that she'd gone, it was time for him to rethink his life. His two children were more important to him than anything else and that included football. At the age of thirty one he knew his best days were behind him and he couldn't go on playing for ever.

Joseph decided he wasn't going to let his kids mess up their youth like he had, nor was he going to let them go through school and their teenage years without a loving parent. He certainly wasn't going to leave them alone to die like he had his wife. Guilt racked his mind as he made the decision to retire from the game he loved.

With his mind made up, he got up, put on his trademark dark glasses and cooked a fried breakfast, shouted at his kids to hurry up while he waited for the baby-sitter to arrive. Joseph caught sight of himself in the mirror and sighed. If he was going to act like the responsible parent perhaps it was time to look like one. Maybe he should lose the beard, it made him look too much like a hippie from a bad seventies cop show.

Joseph trudged back upstairs looking for a razor and some shaving foam. When he finally got to the mirror he stopped dead. Staring back at him was a clean-shaven face. Joseph just stood and stared at the mirror, how could this be happening? The simultaneous ringing of the fire alarm and the doorbell brought his attention back to the burning bacon and the arrival of the baby sitter.

Joseph dodged some very admiring glances and comments from the baby-sitter and hopped onto his battered old motorbike, hoping it would start and take him towards the stadium. He didn't even know why he kept the old bike; it wasn't as if he couldn't afford to replace it. All his team-mates had Ferrari's and BMW's and he earned more than any of them. It was just every time he went to get rid of it he couldn't. It was almost as if it had a link to his missing past, even if half the buttons and switches on it didn't seem to do anything.

Joseph thought to himself as he rode up the motorway, today was going to be different it was the last game of the season. A win against Arsenal would secure an unprecedented treble for the team, European Champions League, Premier League and F A Cup. Football couldn't get any better than this, so what better opportunity than to retire from the game at the top and spend more time with his children?

While he queued in traffic he considered his future. He'd never really felt like going into football management after he retired, and now after the loss of Julie he just wanted to retire to the quiet family life. That was assuming he could avoid the press and public intrusion into his life. Everywhere he went he got asked for his autograph and now the local council had just re-named the neighbouring street in Charing Cross after him. The same street that he'd first kicked a football in, where he'd been wandering alone at the age of eighteen, when a Sunday pub side had persuaded him to make up the numbers. Humble beginnings for the most successful striker in history thought Joseph wryly.

As he glanced at himself in the rear view mirror, Joseph thought he'd have to lose his trademark long auburn hair. He'd get it cut and dye it maybe bright red, no that stood out too much, black would be better. Nice and short too, well maybe not too short, leave a bit to cover than flaming scar that was on his forehead. Not for the first time Joseph wondered how he had come to have a lightening shaped scar on his forehead. The doctors had told him that it was a wound of some kind, and definitely not a birthmark. But it was unlike anything they had ever seen before. When he next glanced in the mirror Joseph almost fell off his bike. For staring back at him was a shorter, black haired Joseph Rattyear. Some helpful tips from other drivers got Joseph's concentration back onto the road and he was able to turn safely into the officials' entrance at Upton Park.

"Ere ooh the 'ell do you fink you are? Joseph friggin' Rattyear? Go on sod off," yelled the guard.

"Well yeah I am, Winston," said Joseph raising his glasses.

"Oh sorry sir, thought you was trying to sneak in without paying … didn't recognise you … sorry sir, err nice look there sir," stammered the guard.

Joseph's new look attracted similar comments from his team-mates; although they speculated that he must be either hiding from or trying to pull a woman. It even took the match commentator a full five minutes to identify who he was. Joseph thought it was probably the 35-yard drive that had somehow curled into the top corner of the Arsenal net that had finally convinced everyone of his identity.

Joseph scored twice more in the 3-1 victory, each time with one of his trademark swerving shots, where he seemed to able to just will the ball into the back of the net. As he walked off after the final whistle to the congratulations of his team-mates he wasn't too surprised to hear he'd won the man of the match award.

"… and now to present the bottle of champagne for the West Ham Utd man of the match award, would you please give a warm welcome to today's match sponsors 'Thomas Brown Associates'. Presenting the bubbly and the match ball is the managing director and life long 'Hammers' fan … Mr Dean Thomas. Annnnnd of course our winner is today's hat trick hero, the Premierships top scorer, step forward Mr Joseph Rattyear."

"Thanks," said Joseph accepting the champagne and the football, while trying to pose for the camera. "I would like to thank everyone here at Upton Park for the tremendous support they've given me over the last fourteen seasons. It's been my honour to play for such an illustrious club and I don't think it can get any better than this, winning the treble and being the country's top scorer. However, sadly my beloved wife, Julie is not here to celebrate with me. Her death has made me see things differently and as a result I've decided to hang up my boots and spend more time with my young family."

The announcement stunned the crowd and created an impromptu press conference that took Joseph a good half an hour to escape where he bumped into Mr Thomas again.

"Sorry for stealing your thunder back there," said Joseph, sweeping his hand across his forehead to wipe the sweat away. "It seemed an opportune moment to retire."

The sponsor looked stunned for a split-second, and Joseph realised he'd seen his scar. Eventually Dean Thomas replied "No errrr problem. Ummm, would you sign an autograph for my son please?"

"Sure," said Joseph putting down his awards and raising his glasses to make polite eye contact with the sponsor. As he glanced down to sign the paper, he missed the look of shock that crossed Dean's face as he stared at Joseph's green eyes.

"What's your lad's name?" asked Joseph.

"H… H… Harrrrrrrrrry?" stammered Dean.

"Ok. To Harry, with best wishes, Joseph Rattyear," said Joseph as he wrote the words on the paper. "Got to rush, could do with a shower and all that."

Joseph rushed off to the changing room leaving Dean looking as if he'd seen a ghost; a ghost from fourteen years past.

"You would have thought that after all these years that the idiots would have stopped claiming to see Harry Potter everywhere," sighed Ron Weasley as he sat down for dinner in the cottage he shared with his wife Hermione and their children.

"Look at this welsh tit, she even claims that the Muggle 'Prince Harry' is Harry Potter, apparently it's conclusive proof because some Muggle newspaper 'The Sun' named him Harry Pothead. Silly cow; she's even got a stupid name Ceri Crackers."

Trying to juggle preparing her husband's tea, planning the new term's lessons and keeping an eye on three troublesome children meant Hermione Weasley could only nod half-heartedly at her husband's work.

Ron had only been working for the ministry for a few months, having retired from playing professional quidditch as keeper for the Chudley Cannons. He had been their most successful keeper ever, playing a leading role in the team's only victory in the last hundred years. Although even Ron would admit that it was fortuitous that the snitch had flown through the open fly of Cannons Seeker's jeans. A place where the opposing Seeker did not dare feel around for it.

Ron opened another of the letter's he'd brought home from work. "This one thinks that Harry Potter is the Muggle pop-star Stevie Wonder … What planet are these people on?"

Ron glanced up to his wife to see why she wasn't laughing, "Oh sorry dear let me help," added Ron apologetically. "How was your day?"

"I never knew how much a deputy-head had to do, I guess Minerva never seemed so busy when we were at school, mind you she doesn't have a family to look after. I'm a bit nervous as the Hogwarts letters go out tomorrow, and I've got to visit some of the Muggle-borns for the first time."

At Ron's blank look Hermione continued, "If the family has no wizarding connections then we can't just send them an owl. Minerva usually takes it in person to explain about Hogwarts and the Magical World. This year, as she's getting older, the task has fallen to me."

"Why you, can't they get someone without a family to do it?"

"There's nobody else Muggle-born, or even capable of talking to non-magical people without scaring them half to death."

"Good luck Dear," said Ron absentmindedly opening the last envelope. "This …this .." Ron swore as he read the piece of parchment in his hand.

"Ronald Weasley not in front of the children," admonished Hermione.

"Err sorry, this idiot thinks that the Muggle Soccer star Joseph Ratty-ear is actually Harry. Ha Ha Ha this is the best yet, He's nothing like Harry, a complete scruff with a long blonde beard and pony tail."

Hermione looked thoughtful, noticing it Ron elaborated, "Dean took me to see West Ham a couple of years ago, and this Ratty-ear bloke plays for them. It's a dead boring game anyway, not only do all the outfield players stay on the ground all the time, but even the bloody keeper isn't allowed to fly either. How stupid is that? Now let's see which clot sent this; it's from a Dean Thomas …"

Ron stopped in shock. "Oh now I understand, it's a joke. The idiot is trying to wind me up because he knows I'm in charge of answering this crap."

"Ron … Ron," called Hermione desperately. "Tomorrow, I'm going to see a Joseph Rattyear to give a Hogwarts letter to his daughter … Lily."

Ron looked shocked but quickly recovered, "No love Harry died, remember there was a Muggle who saw it. Anyway if he was still out there he would have contacted us by now, he wouldn't have put us or Ginny through that."

Hermione rushed into her overstocked Library, returning with a book entitled. 'The Fall of Vol … Volder… err …You-Know-Who' by Jurgen Furgutnow. She started reading out loud. "From tests on his wand, it is known that Harry Potter cast the final and fatal incendio curse. The resulting fireball not only killed Lord Voldemort but tragically enveloped Harry Potter as well. There has been much speculation as to how Harry came to die as well, but we do know for sure, from the amount of blood found at the battle site, that both wizards were seriously injured by this stage in the duel. Although no wizards bore witness, the disaster was seen by a passing Muggle. Joseph Rattyear picked up Harry Potter's wand, but he was unable to save the Boy-Who-Lived's life. Joseph was obliviated by MLE's and at the time of writing was still living in North London unaware that he had witnessed the greatest event in wizarding history."

Ron looked at Hermione still confused. "They found his body, remember we had to try and identify it."

"No love, they found a body, which was unidentifiable. It could have been anyone. Snape for example, he's not been seen since. Maybe he died fighting alongside Harry and isn't living in disguise as a Muggle as we all thought!"

"But if he's Harry, why didn't he get in touch? I thought we were friends. I'll bloody kill him for putting Ginny through fourteen years of agony."

"When you're obliviated they remove all wizarding memories from you. I'll be willing to bet that Harry didn't know that when he let himself be obliviated, and that now he doesn't know anything …", cried Hermione.

"But why did he want to pretend to die?" asked Ron.

"I suspect he couldn't handle the thought of all the fame. I mean the ministry are still getting those stupid letters about him even now, so imagine what it would have been like if he'd survived."

"Wait a minute, … hairy ugly footballer … it can't be Harry. He could never have changed his appearance to fool ministry aurors, and anyway he didn't even know anymore about football than I did. Also we sent Hedwig and she couldn't find him and Fawkes sang a lament and has bonded with Bill. There's no way he can be Harry," protested Ron.

"I don't know dear, I'm as confused as you are. Owls find people by homing in on their magical signature, or in the case of deliveries to Muggles and squibs by flying to their address. How could Harry disguise his magical signature? Similarly Fawkes reacted as if Harry's magic had died."

Hermione suddenly opened her eyes wider and smacked her forehead. "Wait a minute. Do you remember when we found thiefsbane potion in the Hogwarts dungeon? What if Snape wasn't going to use it on himself to escape Azkaban, what if he used it on Harry? This Joseph really could be Harry and not know anything about it. I'll find out for sure tomorrow when I go and see him."

Ron Weasley couldn't fall asleep, he was too busy wondering if his best friend from school could really be alive after all these years, but worried as well at all the secrets he'd been hiding from his friends before the battle with Voldemort. Had Harry planned to abandon our world all along? How had he fooled the aurors into believing he was a Muggle? Well they would find out tomorrow who Mr Joseph Rattyear was. Giving up on sleep, he got up carefully, so as not to disturb his wife, and flooed over to the Burrow to see his younger sister.

Early the following morning Hermione sat on a bench, in the newly named Rattyear Road. She was nervous about today, was it possible that this man was her best friend Harry Potter, and if so how? She shook her head to clear her thoughts. She needed to be professional today as this was primarily Hogwarts business. Slowly she relaxed and picked up her copy of The Quibbler and glanced at the headline.

_Awake after 29 years. Exclusive in today's issue of The Quibbler we bring you the incredible story of Frank Longbottom, who has spent over half his life in St Mungo's totally unaware of his surroundings. _

_Frank, father of world-renowned herbologist, Neville Longbottom, 31, was tortured along with his wife, Alice, into apparent irreversible insanity by Death Eaters shortly after the first defeat of Lord Voldemort. However, his son Neville never gave up hope of restoring his parents' minds, and last week succeeded in returning his father to good health using a memory restorative potion, brewed from several new varieties of plants which he had bred himself. _

_See page 2 for details of Neville Longbottom's life-long work in the field of memory restorative plants. _

_Page 3 - Exclusive Interview with Neville Longbottom about his hope that he can help his mother next. _

_Page 4 - Exclusive interview with Frank Longbottom. _

_Pages 5 to 6 our medical experts consider the implications of this new potion which is understood to also reverse memory charms._

Hermione flicked through the paper, stopping at page seven, which contained a large photograph of Ginny and Harry kissing in the Gryffindor common room. The photograph Harry turned and winked at Hermione, who started reading. _Today, as we celebrate the fourteenth anniversary of the incredible defeat of the most evil wizard of all time, The Quibbler remembers the sacrifices made by the many brave wizards and witches who fought the Death Eaters. _

_See pages 8 to 14 for details of those who lost their lives so we could live free today. _

_For the first time ever, in her-own words, read the heart-wrenching story about The-girl-who-loved-the-boy-who-lived. Hear how she lost both the love of her life and her unborn child in the final battle with the evil Voldemort. Interview with Ginny Weasley on Pages 15-16. _

_Stories by Luna Longbottom, Photographs by Colin Creavey_

"Oh Ginny, why?" sighed Hermione aloud.

"I finally thought I had laid his ghost to rest," answered a very real voice from behind her, causing her to jump. "Then something like this comes along, and as I knew when I was just thirteen, I can never get over Harry. Thanks for letting me come with you today."

"It's against my better judgement, and school policies," said Hermione, as she got up, giving Ginny a quick hug. Together they strode up to a nearby house and knocked on the door.

Joseph eyed up the two women who were stood at his door. They didn't look or act like the obsessive fans he'd had to contend with in the past. In fact they looked somehow familiar, especially the red-head. Joseph realised he was staring, and as if suddenly remembering his manners, he invited them in. "Please take a seat," he said as he showed them into the living room.

"Mr Rattyear, thank you for seeing us at such short notice, I'm Mrs Weasley and this is Miss Weasley" said Hermione as she sat down and took out a sheaf of papers on a clipboard.

"Now, I'm afraid you'll have to explain all this to me. You see, my late wife, dealt with all the arrangements regarding our children. Although I must say, I had no idea that she had put Lily down for a boarding school in Scotland. I daresay she thought I might get transferred to Celtic." Joseph chuckled but stopped abruptly when he caught the look on the two women's faces. He assumed they didn't understand what they had heard, and not that they were trying to figure out whether or not he was Harry Potter.

The man seated in front of Hermione and Ginny looked very much like Harry, but they couldn't be sure. He was much more muscular and fourteen years older, than the Harry of their memories. If only they could see his eyes behind those damned dark glasses he was wearing.

"Sorry footballing joke, now before we start can I offer you two ladies a coffee?"

"Your late wife?" Ginny asked, eventually ending the awkward pause.

"Yes, sadly she passed away a few weeks ago," Joseph paused and sniffed. "So bloody, pointless really." As he said this the cup in his hand shattered. "So, sorry, this seems to be happening to me quite a bit lately. I'm not really used to being a host. How do you like your coffee?"

Joseph had to repeat the question, as Hermione was scribbling notes on the paper in front of her. This bloke did look very similar to Harry, but she still wasn't sure, and no matter how hard she looked, she couldn't see a scar on his forehead as his thick black hair covered it at all times. In any case, why would he have called himself a stupid name like Rattyear? It was worse than Voldemort and that was a bloody anagram?

"Milk no sugar, and the same for Ginny," said Hermione hesitantly, as she continued to scribble on her sheet of paper.

"Ginny" said Joseph thoughtfully while offering her a biscuit. "I don't mean to sound rude, and I know that this is going to sound a bit silly, but I feel that I know you from somewhere?"

Ginny looked shell-shocked, but before she could answer Hermione gave a loud cry, " OHHH … NOOO !!!"

Joseph and Ginny turned quickly to see great big tears rolling down Hermione's cheeks as she covered her mouth with her hand. The clipboard, covered in notes, slid off her lap and landed with a bang on the floor. Ginny bent over and picked it up. She started to work her way down Hermione's writing and after five seconds she gave an ear-splitting scream and promptly fainted.

Joseph's sporting reflexes cut in as he easily dived to his knees and caught Ginny before she hit the carpet. Hermione was still frozen; the tears were now falling from her bright red cheeks onto her jumper as she stared wide eyed at Joseph.

As he held the red-head gently in his arms, Joseph caught the scent of a familiar smell; a nice, calming smell, almost like a garden he once knew. He tried vainly to recall exactly where he remembered it from, but in the end all he could think about were gnomes.

Joseph was brought back to the present as the woman in his arms groaned. Instinctively, he knew what he had to do. "Have you got any chocolate?" he asked the other woman, who had now stopped crying, but was looking oddly at him.

"She needs chocolate," elaborated Joseph. "It helps if you collapse after an attack of deme… err, I mean, if you err faint," finished Joseph lamely as he berated himself for mixing up real life and his ridiculous dreams.

Hermione thrust a strange packet into Joseph's hands before dissolving into tears again. Joseph stared at the wrapper, which read '_Chocolate Frog.'_ That's a new one he thought to himself as he tore it open, jumping in shock as a lifelike frog shaped chocolate hopped from the packet and out the open living room window, leaving Joseph looking blankly at a card which had fallen from the packet. Staring back at Joseph from the card, was a portrait of a boy; a boy whose hair looked remarkably like his own. Both Joseph and the boy stared unblinkingly at each other, as they simultaneously ran their hands through their respective hair, revealing that each had an identical lightening bolt shaped scar. The boy in the photo gasped and ran out of the side picture. Instinctively Joseph turned the card over, but the boy had vanished.

The back of the card read '_Harry James Potter 1981-1997. Known as the chosen one, Harry Potter is famous for defeating the dark wizard, Voldemort, twice. The second time bravely sacrificing his own life to banish the evil wizard for ever. Harry Potter was also the youngest wizard to play House Quidditch at Hoqwarts in over a century._

Feeling movement in his arms, Joseph looked down to find the red-head had come round, and was now staring wide-eyed at his scar. Joseph didn't find this as unnerving as he usually did, there was something comforting and familiar about those beautiful brown eyes. As he looked down at her, their eyes met and Ginny breathed one word, "Harry?" before she fainted again.

Fainting, hysterical women, escaping chocolate and now animated photos of himself, were quickly becoming too much for Joseph to take. He looked around desperately scanning the room for answers when he noticed the clipboard. He reached out for it and glanced at the top sheet of paper. It was covered in words which had been crossed out. He read the few that remained; 'Anagram' had been repeatedly underlined and at the very bottom of the sheet was,

'MR JOSEPH RATTYEAR HARRY JAMES POTTER.'

Joseph stared uncomprehendingly at the clipboard for a few seconds, before he looked up bewildered, searching for an answer.

Hermione took a while before she was able to reply with out bursting into further tears. She looked deep into those familiar green eyes and asked "Harry, would you like to know how you got that scar?"

**The (real) end**


End file.
